#twinky blond vampires

[lordprettyflackotara]

sharp fangs || sam & colby || part two

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. sam and colby are vamps hehe🧛🏼‍��️. TW: SMUT WITH PLOT. this fic contains blood, brief gore, murder but like it’s justified tbh. mainly you just have two vampire bfs obsessed with you lol. made this shit extra long. ps: part three will not take as long i promise. enjoy my beloved readers. MWAH <3

Sam and Colby absolutely adored you. You were the apple of their eye, the air that made them feel like they could breathe again. They couldn’t get enough of you, making a conscious effort to spend every moment they could with you. When you were away they’d clean your apartment. (Or snoop through your things.) When you went to sleep at night they’d take shifts watching over you while the other went out to hunt.

You were so darling while you slept, the contentment and peace on your face the sight of a lifetime to them. In all of their long years they had didn’t think they’d allow themselves to get attached to another human. After the first two hundred years they saw all of their companions die, leaving them alone with just one another. All of their past lovers met the same inevitable demise, death becoming an old friend of theirs.

The routine was beginning to become old, the two deciding interacting with humans was pointless. Humans were so fragile, so unfortunately disposable. Whoever they chose to get attached to could get hit by a bus and die, or catch a simple cold and it’d end the same. They shared the same fears with you, which they tried to repel by watching over you so heavily. You liked it in an odd way, having your two best friends become angels watching over you. Both Sam and Colby only shared two fears. They feared the day you’d unexpectedly die from a tragic occurrence. Turning you into one of them was out of the question, your soul deserving better than eternal damnation.

The only thing they feared more, was when you truly saw them for what they were. They knew everything about them was appealing to you. Their looks, their voice, even down to their scent. They believed you truly cared for them, but they weren’t convinced you actually comprehended how terrifying they could be. How savage and ruthless they could become. They feared once you realized this, a look of genuine horror spread across your face, you’d wish them away. Forever.

Often times they tried to ignore this fear. After all, right now you were standing in between them, asking them questions about being a vampire. Your fingers were intertwined with Sam’s, Colby’s arm lazily hanging over your shoulders. “Coffins?” You asked. Colby chuckled, an ice cold winter breeze flying past the three of you. “Did we bring coffins when we moved in?” He asked. You rolled your eyes, hoping the boys didn’t notice your visible shivering. They did.

It wasn’t unusual for the three of you to go out for a snack late at night, the empty streets allowing Sam and Colby to be visible without disguises or questions. “Alright alright. How about garlic? I may be Italian, you never know,” You asked. Sam had given you his jacket a few minutes ago, your lips still turning more white by the second. How had they not thought this through better? As the blonde looked down at your eyes, the soft doe kind that made their frozen hearts flutter, he remembered. Right, that’s why.

“Human food doesn’t bother us. You can make as much garlic bread to your hearts content,” Sam replied, placing a small kiss to the side of your head. Small snowflakes had entangled themselves in your hair, Sam’s lips forming a frown. You were willing to make yourself this cold and potentially sick for a twinkie? The three of you finally approached the tiny store, Colby handing you a wad of cash. “Jesus Christ, a twinkie does not cost more than a hundred dollars Colbs,” You gasped, looking at the wad of crisp and shiny hundred dollar bills. “I read about inflation all the time. Just get a few snacks so you won’t have to nearly freeze to death for a twinkie,” He insisted.

You smiled softly, placing a kiss on Colby’s cheek. “Alright i’ll be back,” You say, before dipping into the grocery store. Sam and Colby preferred to stand outside, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention. “We didn’t have twinkies in our time right?” Colby asked. Sam let out a chuckle. “Dude we were actively there for the salem witch trials. We absolutely did not have twinkies,” He answered. Colby teasingly elbowed him, the two leaning against the brick wall outside of the store.

“Just double checking. Couldn’t recall if we were around to try those hyped up little rolls,” Colby told him. It was odd when they thought about it, how long they had roamed the earth. It was always just the two of them during life and then resurrection. They couldn’t help but feel like you were the final piece to the puzzle, the third to the trio. Yet they feared how long they’d actually have with you. Especially when you opted to eat twinkies a majority of the time instead of actual food. (Colby had agreed to learn how to cook just to get you to eat better.)

Sam’s ears twitched for a split second, the sound of footsteps flooding them. He looked around, both him and Colby as still as statues. “You hear that?” He asked the brunette. Colby nodded, equally as on alert. The weather was undoubtedly freezing. No economic crisis was occurring, there would be no reason for a regular human to be roaming the streets this late at night. “I’ll go check it out. Stay with her and i’ll meet you guys back at the apartment,” Colby huffed, dashing off into the night. The ringing of the bell attached to the store door rang, your happy face emerging into sight. You had already broken into one of your twinkies, taking a big bite. You went to hand Sam the wad of cash, before searching for Colby.

“Where’s Colby?” You asked, wiping the white cream off of your bottom lip. Sam’s mind briefly went to filth, before resuming to the matter at hand. He didn’t want to worry you, but he also didn’t want to lie. Since they had met you they had agreed to not lie, the truth something you’d have to handle if you wanted them around. “He’s off investigating something he heard. He’ll meet us back at the apartment,” Sam explained. You laced your fingers with Sam’s, allowing the blonde to walk you across the street. “You think it’s another one of your kind?” You asked, taking another bite of your twinkie.

Sam purposefully kept you on the side away from the road, ensuring no car would hit you if it came brawling your way. Especially with the icy roads, Sam knew human drivers would be unpredictable. (Big shocker: he wasn’t a fan of automobiles when they came out.) “I doubt it. This is our territory now. Our scent is everywhere,” Sam reassured you. You shoved the empty wrapper in your pocket, leaning on Sam for support as he walked you home. His body was cold and statue like, yet you found comfort the more you touched him.

The three of you didn’t want to make things confusing after you all met. After all, the sex was just supposed to be a one time thing. A peace offering in the boys minds. That’s what it was supposed to be. Yet the memory constantly lingering in the forefront of all of yours minds. There was a not so subtle craving that you all wanted it to happen again, the timing just not seemingly right. Sam and Colby didn’t believe in rushing things, even if you didn’t have all the time in the world as they did. Snow crushed underneath your sets of footsteps, Sam’s hearing acutely on alert for intruders.

Yet he couldn’t find it within himself to hear anything over the soothing sound of your heartbeat. It was music to his ears, the sound gratifying to him. It was so soothing in fact, it was distracting. This distraction created the perfect element of surprise for a man in a ski mask to emerge from the alleyway shadows, grabbing you. “Sam!” You screeched, thrashing against the criminals grasp. Sam was forced to let go of your hand, knowing he’d accidentally tear it off if he held onto you and played tug of war against the criminal. Sam could hear it now, the disgusting blood flowing through the lowlifes veins. He had been so blinded by how ethereal your presence was and now he was paying the price.

The flash of a blade sent Sam into an angry frenzy, baring his fangs at the attacker. “Sam! Help me! Colby!” You screamed, your voice echoing off of the alleyway walls. In the blink of an eye Colby was on the attacker, biting into the side of his neck. The grasp on you was released, your body falling to the ground. You quickly turned around, moving backwards on the icy sidewalk. Colby wasn’t feeding onto your attacker, his gaze was much more intense than that. Much more unhinged. He yanked his head backwards, tearing his throat apart. You barely had time to blink before Sam was on the other side of the attacker, copying Colby’s actions.

Clumps of flesh hit the ground, streams of blood flowing everywhere that you looked. Your attacker was long dead, your heart thumping so loud you thought it may burst out of your chest. You continued to back away, your back hitting a street lamp as you watched Sam and Colby. Any mortality they had, any sense of pride or self control had been washed away by the biggest wave. Neither of them were hungry, the taste of the attackers blood sickening. They received no satisfaction from feeding on him, their animalistic craving ordering them to tear the threat apart.

So they did, the man’s neck now a pile of unidentifiable blood and flesh. You swallowed, staring at your best friends. The ones who did your laundry and watched sitcoms shows with you. The ones who looked over you every single moment of the day, even when you didn’t want them to. The same ones who had once fucked you merciless, your life never having been the same afterwards. Blood coated both of their hands, the same crimson paint dripping down their chins and necks. Sam’s maroon sweater was now soaked, Colby’s leather jacket stained with splatters.

Sam dropped the attacker first, his eyes darting around in search of you. You were a pitiful sight, one Sam wished he didn’t have to see. You were on the ground, your back hugging the closest streetlight. Your hands were buried into handfuls of snow, your fingers turning red from the cold. Your eyes were widen, your gaze refusing to stray from him and Colby. Sam swallowed, the rancid taste of the attackers blood still coating his tongue. He walked in front of you, crouching down to your eye level. “I’m so, so sorry,” He whispered. You looked terrified, surely of them. Sam was very sure, his eyes soaking in what he figured to be the last time he’d see you.

Colby quickly joined his side, the corpse abandoned behind them. You had never seen so much blood before, the color seemingly everywhere you looked. “It’s going to be okay, I promise,” Colby cooed. He brought his hand up to your cheek, lovingly stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. The blood was staining your skin, the feeling unnatural and making you slightly uneasy. Yet, when you looked at the two killers in front of you, you felt nothing but pure awe. Sam was trying to find the words to say to you, expecting the worst. Colby didn’t seem to have the same thoughts as him, which only made the situation ten times worse.

“I-I-I-” You began stuttering, unable to form a coherent sentence. How could you do it? How could you ever thank them? They saved your life. The faint sound of sirens interrupted the conversation, the boys heads turning to the left at the same time. “Sorry princess the conversation is going to have to wait. Let’s get you home,” Colby said, scooping you into his arms. You curled up against his chest, the stench of blood flooding your nostrils as you nuzzled against his shirt.

\/

The boys had gotten you inside safely, setting you down on the couch gently. “Do you need anything? Water? Food?” Colby asked. There were only a handful of things a human could need, surely there were maybe five max. In his mind at least. Sam’s mind was soaring in the other direction, his mouth running dry. You shook your head no, meeting their gaze. “Thank you,” You said. Sam blinked a few times, trying to ensure he heard you correctly. “We’d do anything for you,” Colby answered, crouching in front of you. The blonde braced himself, sure this was the end.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do my best to protect you. I know what you’re doing to do and I just have to say that I-” Sam began, your widened eyes stopped him. Fuck, you really had no idea the power you had over them. The three forbidden words were on the tip of his tongue, the ones that would only make this harder. You quickly rose to your feet, cupping his face into your hands. Gratitude had washed over you, your body demanding to give them a reward. You couldn’t deny that although unsettling, the sight of them covered in your attackers remains made your heart skip a beat.

“I wanna thank both of you, for saving my life,” You say, looking up into Sam’s red orbs. A thousand thoughts ran through the blondes head, many of them thinking they had broke your sanity or something along those lines. “Are you not scared?” Colby asked, approaching you from behind and resting his hands around your waist. You shook your head no. “You both won’t hurt me,” You answered. Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t know that. You saw what we did. We ripped his throat apart. Tore him to shreds,” Sam huffed, “What exactly makes you so confident we wouldn’t do that to you?”

His words were hurtful, even if they did hit the hammer on the nail. “You did that to protect me. I know you. I know you both. You won’t hurt me,” You answered again, more confident this time. Colby exchanged a look with Sam, the gears in his brain finally turning the same way his were. “I think what Sam is trying to say is that what you just saw was a lot to process. It is for us, which means it has to mean even more to a human-” He began, your sharp eyes turning around to meet his. Your eyes were shooting daggers, a look Colby knew to not threaten. “Enough with the whole ‘weak human’ bullshit. I may not be immortal but I have a brain you know,” You snapped.

Yeah, Sam had came to the conclusion that they broke you.

“And what does your brain tell you about what you just saw? About the two blood soaked demons that are standing in your living room?” Sam questioned. Your facial expression softened, your eyes resuming their doe like fashion. “They’re telling me that you’re both vampires. Vampires with habits and tendencies I anticipated. Ones that don’t scare me,” You answered. Why didn’t they understand? Could they understand?

Your words seemed so sincere, both boys back on you. It was Colby in front of you this time, Sam’s chest pressing against your back. “We are so sorry you had to see that,” Colby told you. He grabbed your chin, guiding you to look up at him. They could hear your heart skip a beat, the blood smudging against your soft skin. “It’s okay. If it makes you guys feel better, you both look awfully hot covered in blood like this,” You say, biting your bottom lip. Sam pressed himself against your ass, his hands traveling up to your breast.

“Really, is that so?” Colby hummed, smirking down at you. He centered his thumb on your bottom lip, pulling it down teasingly. “In that case, let us show you how sorry we really are,” Sam murmured into your ear, pressing a kiss against your earlobe. You groaned, his large hands kneading at your breast. “Open your mouth princess,” Colby muttered. You did so, flattening out your tongue on display. The brunette could feel himself getting hard, watching you eagerly suck his thumb as he put it into your mouth. The taste of blood coated your tongue, your pupils dilating as you looked into Colby’s eyes.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect,” Colby praised. He removed his thumb from your eager mouth, replacing it with his lips. His taste made you feel drunk, your body becoming putty in between the boys as Sam tweaked your nipples. He chuckled darkly into your neck as they hardened under his ice cold fingertips. “Always so eager,” Sam murmured, sucking hickies onto your neck. He could feel your veins, hearing the blood flow through your delicate body. Colby’s tongue slid into your mouth, the brunette careful to not nip you with his fangs. Your desperation only made them harder, your sinful noises only becoming louder.

“Fuck, i’ve missed this,” Colby panted, pulling away from your lips. A thin string of saliva hung between both of your lips, your lips now swollen. “We’ve missed this,” Sam corrected, working on his third hickey. Colby dropped to his knees, eager to please you. “Let me taste you, fucking please, just wanna make tonight up to you,” Colby pleaded, his desperation washing over him. You could feel Sam’s hips roll against yours teasingly, ripping a groan out of your throat. “Answer him baby,” Sam encouraged, the smell of your arousal flooding his nose. You licked your lips, your balance unsteady.

Sam’s large hands kept you in place, his assault on your throat relentless. “Please, do whatever you want to me,” You whined, raking your fingers through Colby’s hair. The brunette quickly pulled down your skirt and stockings, accidentally tearing them in the process. “We’ll buy you new ones,” He muttered, bringing your panties down to your ankles. Your slick was drenched for them, Colby’s eyes blown with lust as he admired your cunt. This is all he could think about since the last time he saw you like this, so wet and desperate.

“Go on baby, use Colby’s tongue the way you need,” Sam said encouragingly. You pulled him towards you by his hair, his eager tongue lapping up your juices. Your knees almost buckled, Sam quick to keep you in place. The blonde was having a hard time restraining himself, your blood calling to him. Your smell was always so delightful and it only became more so when you were a moaning mess. “Sammy,” You whined, using your spare hand to grab his wrist. Colby’s lips sucked at your clit, making it harder to form coherent sentences.

“Yes baby?”

“Drink from me,” You panted, grinding against Colby’s face. Sam blinked, unable to deny or question your request. Your blood was sweeter than any others he had tasted, his body always yearning to have another taste of you. He slowly sank his sharp fangs into you, the piercing pain subsiding into a blinding euphoria. “Oh my God,” You whined, clawing at Colby’s hair. His large hands were keeping your thighs pried open, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as Sam drank from your neck like a starving man. “Thats it princess, keep using me. Make yourself cum on my tongue,” Colby ordered, the sight of you crumbling enough to make him want to cream his pants.

Sam managed to pull himself off of you, panting as he did so. Your blood was so intoxicating, so addicting. It’s like you were made for them. He lapped at your neck, cleaning your wound as you felt a familiar knot form in your stomach. “Fuck fuck fuck,” You whimpered. Sam slithered one of his hands around your waist to keep you upright, using the other to guide your head to turn. He brought his lips to yours, swallowing each noise you made with his mouth. You could taste your own blood, the metallic taste sending you over the edge. You pulled at Colby’s roots are you came, your vision clouded with stars.

Colby emerged from between your thighs, bruises of where his hands had held your thighs apart already forming. Sam picked you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. You smashed your lips against his, the boys bringing you to your bedroom. Your back hit your plush mattress, the boys switching positions. Colby stood in between your legs, undoing his belt. “You sure you can handle me princess? I won’t go easy on you like Sam,” He smirked, causing Sam to roll his eyes. You nodded eagerly, reaching behind you to undo Sam’s belt.

“I’m not just a human Colbs. I can handle whatever you throw at me,” You say, as cocky as you can muster. The boys exchanged mischievous looks, their cocks throbbing with excitement. You laid your head back, quickly helping Sam take off his pants. You could feel your core throbbing with desire, Colby making himself right at home in between your legs. He rubbed his tip up and down your folds, soaking in the feeling. You stuck your tongue for Sam, eagerly awaiting his cock. The mere sight of it was making your mouth water.

“You have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to fuck you,” Colby confessed, pushing himself inside of you. You moaned, your noises being muffled by Sam’s cock as he placed it inside of your mouth. The vibrations sent a chill down his spine, your name falling off of his lips. “Fucking hell, you’ve got to try her mouth,” Sam groaned, pushing himself down your throat deeper. Colby grinned as he bottomed out, your walls milking his cock.

“Trust me I remember, everything about her is a slice of heaven,” He replied, gripping your waist harshly. He began to move slowly, slithering one of his hands down to your clit. Your thighs trembled at the extra stimulation, Colby’s thrust speeding up rapidly. Both boys seemed to be in a state of heat, their hips moving faster than you could keep up. “You’re so pretty like this,” Sam praised, watching the shape of his cock go up and down your throat. Colby bit his bottom lip, his sinful noises threatening to spill out at a rapid rate.

“You’re taking me so well. Like you were made for me,” Colby grunted. He drew faster circles around your clit, your waterline flooding with tears as Sam’s cock abused the back of your throat. They were merciless, hell bent on making you cum whilst chasing their own highs. “Made for us,” Sam corrected, his orgasm coming quickly. He pulled himself out of your throat, watching as you stuck your tongue out, desperately trying to lick the underside of his cock. He jerked his shaft above you, depositing his seed directly into your mouth.

“You’re so fucking hot, my fucking God,” Sam panted, watching you eagerly swallow his cum. Your mouth was free to moan now, your mascara smudged and tears peaking at the corner of your eyes. “Just like that, please, feels so good Colbs,” You babbled. Colby grabbed both of your legs, throwing them over his shoulders. He felt impossibly deeper, his cock abusing your g spot as it pleased. “You’re fucking milking me princess, it’s like you want me to cum inside of you,” Colby moaned, his thrust relentless.

Sam snickered as he lowered himself near your ear. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? To be bred by him? By both of us? Such a dirty girl, wanting to be bred by demons,” Sam snickered, licking the side of your neck. You could feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm, your body beginning to tremble. “Shit, i’m gonna cum,” You warned. One of your hands found Sam’s squeezing it tightly as you felt your orgasm wash over you. He now felt what Colby felt before, the butterflies swarming around his stomach at the romantic gesture.

Colby’s hips stuttered, his thrust coming to a halt as he came inside of you. He slowly pulled out of you, collapsing on the other side of the bed. The rooms sounds consisted of your rapid breathing and heartbeat, for Sam and Colby at least. Colby stroked your hair as you calmed down, Sam’s hand never straying from yours.

“Hey guys?” You hummed. Sam could’ve jumped on his feet right then and there. Anything you needed. Anything you wanted. He’d eagerly walk to the ends of the earth to get it for you. “Yeah?” He replied, awaiting your orders. You giggled, looking over at him.

“Wanna have a round two?”

[theantitheticallogician]

hannibal and interview with the vampire are literally like when you go i want a show that is exactly the same as the one i js watched but also entirely different *spoilers below for both*

because one is about vampires and the other is about the fbi and cannibalism but there's a european blond wannabe monster wannabe top energy pathetic fell-first cringefail loser, who's so whipped by this twinky dark haired traumatized amnesiac fucked in the head unreliable narrator sass monster, and their combined past family traumas and mutual manipulation and mutual physical abuse would send any other pairing to an early grave but they're getting turned on by it, and there's also a poor no agency no identity of her own adopted daughter who has been saved from the same method of death that actually kills her in the end at the hands of her adoptive father

[somniuslucis]

Halloween means prompts like:

Patrick & Art getting stoned as a reward for winning their last match. This leads to Patrick talking Art into a handjob “just between bros”… leading to Art getting bent over the side of his bed, Patrick eating him out and Art hanging on for dear life. Art feels like he’s losing his mind as Patrick fucks him into the mattress for what seems like forever with the effects of the drugs heightening every sensation.

AFAB! Art & Patrick go to a Halloween party (Art in a skirt!), get wasted, joining in on taking body shots, truth or dare, and eventually suck-and-blow. Patrick drops the card and subsequently kisses Art, which leads to Art sobering up between then and when Pat & Art decides to join in on a round of 7 minutes in heaven. Art tries questioning Patrick once they get locked in the bedroom together, but Patrick has other things in mind. Cue confessions of feelings, make-outs, and one of Art’s legs draped over Patrick’s shoulders as Patrick goes to town eating Art out, totally ignoring the knocks from the other side of the door telling them the 7 minutes are up.

Patrick and Tashi get together and Art yearns for both of them, realizing he’s more jealous of Tashi than he is of Patrick. Patrick & Art are hanging out one weekend, Tashi is gone for a match and on a silent streak after she and Patrick’s latest fight about Patrick not pushing himself enough in his tennis career. The pair of best friends are having a heart-to-heart, leading to Art confessing having a crush on a guy (leaving out that said guy is Patrick). One thing leads to another and Patrick suggests Art practice his bj skills on Patrick, himself, “as a favor… no big deal! Just like old times.” This leads to Patrick teaching Art how to deep throat, Art with tears in his eyes, choking back his gag reflex, peering up at Patrick with shiny, half-lidded eyes as Patrick encourages Art to take him just a little deeper every few bobs of his head. “Yes, just like that. So good. You’re taking it like such a good boy.”

Stripper!Patrick giving Customer!Art his first lap dance for his 21st after his tennis teammates take him to the strip club. Patrick takes Art back to the VIP rooms for an “extra special gift” paid for by his coach, Tashi, and leaves Art a writhing, blushing, begging mess as Pat goes to town giving him the best gift of all.

Rockstar!Patrick giving Superfan!Art a night to remember after taking a liking to the cute, blushing, stuttering blond while signing autographs outside his dressing room.

Werewolf!Patrick going into a rut and Vampire!Art being the only trustworthy and strong enough being to help his best friend get through the cycle. BONUS for succubus Tashi working her way into the pants of a witch ;)

Frat!President Patrick fucking New Pledge, Twinky!Art up against a wall and over a table after catching Art making out with a boy from a rival college at a house party. Patrick takes his time reminding Art just what school AND frat president his allegiance is to, and ensuring Art knows he can come to Patrick any time he needs to let loose a little.

[i-write-sin-not-tragedy]

Give me a funny fact from lavender au plz

Vampire families' have rank based on how powerful they are, the Morningstars being the most powerful Vampire family. (Also considering using eye color to show rank; Red being the most powerful, then Orange, then Pink. Most Vampires have either orange or pink eyes but the Morningstars (and Alastor for reasons) have red)

Angel and Charlie are ofc in a lavender marriage in this au bc ✨️politics✨️ and since the Morningstar family is considered the higher ranking family, Angel would take Charlies family name.

Thus the ensuing confusion of people asking for "Sir Morningstar"

"Uuuuh. Which one?"

"You know. The blonde twinky one?"

[sincerelyjxyy]

Gold Rush - Ten

Invisible String - Gold Rush

Chapter Ten - Moments Littered In Between

Song Of The Chapter - Somebody to You by BANNERS

✧ i was happy three days ago. today I'm depressed. what happened? nothing. an inner crutch slipped. some poorly suppressed memory rose to the surface. — mihail sebastian, for two thousand years ✧

Summary: The pogues’ plan of stealing the drone is set in motion, and JJ is determined to bring Josie's mood back to standard protentional.

Warning: Bit of negative body images and eating disordered language

Word Count: 9.4k

Gold Rush Masterlist

JOSIE SPRAWLED HERSELF ACROSS THE BENCH OF THE TWNKIE AS SHE POURED HER FEELINGS INTO HER JOURNAL. She found her mood slightly lifted as she put her honest thoughts into physical form, but not nearly enough to make her feel normal. The pain of her morning lingered with a brick-like ache that weighed heavily on her bones.

Her heart rate slowly calmed, having skyrocketed from her urgency to avoid being caught. And as the group discussed what the next step of the plan was, she grew entertained by Pope's pouting.

He sat with his arms crossed and an exasperated glare, insistent that what they'd planned was a horrible idea. Josie's feet laid across his, which he'd propped up on the back seat, and she shook them teasingly.

JJ sat on the floor of the Twinkie, slightly biting his tongue in absolute focus as he prepped a joint. Josie peeked at him from the corner of her eye, and she couldn't hide the smile that grazed her face at the sheer concentration that painted his expression.

"Pope, we're not stealing the drone. We're...borrowing it," John B assured from behind the boy. Josie shrugged, agreeing that their brunette friend had a point.

It was eighty-million dollars each, after all. They could afford to execute a little grab-and-go.

"Humans are the only animals that can't tell fantasy from reality," Pope quoted. Josie's brows furrowed as she tried to surmise where he might've heard it from. It seemed vaguely familiar.

"Wait, did you come up with that?" John B questioned, and Josie snorted in amusement.

"No, Albert Berstein came up with that, but it applies to this whole treasure-hunting thing," Pope smartly critiqued.

John B was silent for a moment. "Oh," he muttered.

Josie clicked her fingers conclusively, pointing at Pope in an aha fashion as she sat up in her seat. "Psychologist! That's why I didn't know who the hell you were quoting." She leaned back and buzzed with pride at her deduction. Albert Berstein had been the author of a book her mom had hounded her to read a while back.

Something about comparing people to vampires—Josie never did read it.

Pope shot her an amused glance, brow cocked, and she smugly nodded her head back at him. He then turned back to address John B in the driver's seat. "So, which is it?" He held out his hands to mimic a scale. "Fantasy or reality?"

"Why're you so weird, Pope?" JJ nonchalantly responded.

Josie leaned down with her right arm to slightly slap the blond's calf, but nevertheless still chuckled at his inquiry. She scrunched her face in subsequent agreement; to be fair, Pope's peculiar nature was just part of his charm.

"It's fantasy, but possible reality," Kie offered with a slight shrug as she glanced at Josie.

During the time she'd spent mulling through her thoughts, Josie concocted the idea that maybe the answer to calming her spiraling thoughts was to find an opportune distraction. And this seemed perfect. What better thing to grab onto than John B's treasure hunt?

"Oh, come on, guys!" Josie placed her journal down at the end of the bench, turning to sit upright in her seat. She glanced around at the attention she'd gathered and laid her hands flat on her lap. "My entire life, everyone has said the exact same thing about Avery's treasure and Libertalia. That it's a fantasy—a figment of my own imagination running wild. But I know that it's real."

She shared a look with John B, who returned it with an appreciative smile over his shoulder. Josie gave him an encouraging nod, indicating that she was ready to believe in it if he did. She admired the willingness her friend so valiantly showed and found herself drawn to it. She knew all too well what it felt like to chase a dream of gold.

"Reality," John B easily declared, sharing a determined look with both girls. Josie grinned, pleased with his response, and moved to lay back across the bench. She lightly kicked at Pope's feet, before placing her own back over them.

"Virtual reality," JJ added, joint hanging out of his mouth as he clicked his lighter to life. But, his action was interrupted as Pope reached down to snatch the joint from him. He flicked it away onto Josie's lap, and she picked it up to teasingly wiggle it at JJ.

"Keep the signal clear," Pope chastised.

JJ dramatically slammed the lighter shut with his palm, and Josie giggled as she twirled the joint in her fingers. The blond looked up at her with a pout, begging her to give the item back in support of him. But she simply shrugged and leaned to squeeze his leg in faux sympathy.

"Don't worry, Sunny. I'll keep it safe." Josie reached down to place the joint in the front pocket of her bag. She giggled when JJ loudly groaned and swung his head back against Kiara's seat in defeat.

Soon after their discussion, they arrived back at the docks. Prior to them leaving for the club, John B had hooked the Pogue up to Kiara's SUV. And, coincidentally, it happened to be the exact situation they'd needed to use for their plan.

As they pulled off to wherever the SUV had been left, Josie made haste in packing her belongings. She slung her bag over her shoulder and leaned forward to tap Pope's leg. "Good luck, love you guys."

Pope jokingly swatted at her hand as JJ opened the sliding door, unmoving from his spot on the floor. He let her step over him and clamber through, laughing as she stumbled a bit climbing out.

She huffed, turning to lean in and lay a dramatically loud kiss to the top of his hat. "Behave."

"Me? Best behavior," JJ bid dismissively, and Josie let out a sarcastic laugh. She pushed at his head, causing him to theatrically fall to his side, and gave one last smile goodbye to Pope.

She shut the van door and followed Kiara as they made their way around the front of the van. John B leaned out of his window as they passed, giving them a reassuring smile. "Hey, don't worry. You guys got this."

The girls shared a look of humor. "It's not us I'm worried about." Kie emphasized her claim by pointing toward the boys arguing in the back as she walked backward to her car. Josie patted John B's arm in solidarity.

"Got it." He offered a thumbs up.

As Josie turned away, the call of her name stalled her. She turned to face her best friend, and it was clear that he had more he wanted to say to her. She waited expectantly, raising her brow, for him to speak.

"You sure you're alright? You've been...off today. Y'know you don't have to do this."

She smiled appreciatively at the sentiment and offered him a shrug. "Just one of those days, JB. But what's important right now is helping you. I got this." She threw her thumb behind her toward Kie's car. "Besides, I'll have that one looking out for me."

John B stared at her, unconvinced, but she sent him a smile of promise. "Seriously, I'm good. Love you. Be careful!" Josie waved, before she turned to jog to Kiara's passenger door.

Opening the door, she sat her bag down on the floorboard and climbed in. Kiara's curious stare burned into her as she settled, but Josie convincingly shook her head to explain that the conversation was nothing of concern. Without saying more, Kie turned the car on and pulled ahead, the Twinkie trailing them from afar.

Josie sighed and peeked back at the van following them, before she settled in her seat again and faced Kie. "So, remind me one more time?"

Kiara nodded through a chuckle, adjusting her grip on the wheel. "Okay, so there's gonna be a guard, right? He's probably gonna be the slimy type." Josie nodded in acknowledgement, fully aware of the type of men that frequented the salvage yard. "So, when two young girls show up about a flat tire, of course he'll have no choice but to help us. That's when the boys will sneak in."

Josie narrowed her eyes in uncertainty, doubtfully tilting her head at John B's plan. Sure, the boys had quite the knack for stealing things, but what they were doing was a big task. Despite these concerns, Kie shrugged in response, and Josie settled back into her seat.

After a few minutes of thoughtful silence, Kie spoke back up. "Do you really believe that the gold's on the ship?"

Josie sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. She leaned back against the door, mulling over her words before she let them spill into existence. Her lips lifted in a pout as she got lost in her thoughts.

Did she believe that the gold was there? Or was it only for an ulterior motive that she expressed her belief in her friend?

"I think I want the gold to be there, I guess. Because it would mean a lot to John B..." Josie paused, debating whether or not to speak her next words. "But also, I think I, like, selfishly want it to be there too."

"Why do you say that?" Kie glanced at her friend, confused.

Josie sighed, favoring to look down and stare as she picked the skin around her nails. "I don't know; different reasons, I guess. Part of me wants this whole thing to be real so that I won't have to face the reality of real-world problems. Y'know, like health insurance and bills and taxes—stuff like that. We spend our whole lives basically raising ourselves to slaughter. I mean, sure, me and you? We're lucky. We come from money. But do you think our parents are gonna financially support us when they find out what we wanna do with our lives? I know damn well mine won't." Josie breathed out a sardonic laugh.

"But, let's say the gold isn't there. Even so, doing all of this treasure hunting business will allot me enough distraction from my otherwise draining mental state. The last thing I need to do is focus on the possibility of my addict-of-a-father creeping around Kildare, threatening to pop into my life at any given moment. Not to mention the suffocating chokehold my mother has decided to maintain."

"Honestly, I just hope that, for everyone's sake, the gold is there."

"Wow..." Kie trailed off, sighing as she contemplated the right way to address Josie's heavy statements. "Jo..."

Josie cut her off, too deep in her own head. "And then I think another part of me believes that if we find this gold, it'll solidify the idea that Avery's treasure is a possibility. Like, existence by proxy or something." Josie's forehead scrunched as she held her hands out in front of her. "Almost as if seeing hidden treasure will prove to me that it's all more than just a concept."

Kiara was grateful for the turn of conversation that she could grasp. "Are you having doubts?"

"Never," Josie swiftly answered as she vigorously shook her head. "It's just that; maybe if we find the Royal Merchant treasure..." Josie trailed off, shaking the rest of her thoughts from sticking to her brain.

Maybe her father would be impressed and proud enough to want to repair their relationship.

That was too much for Josie to consider.

These weren't even things she'd pondered mere minutes ago in the van. She'd only assumed her acceptance of John B's plan was an attempt to control the overwhelming anxieties that spun in her head. That she just supported him because she knew that it would've been reciprocated the other way around.

But, as her thoughts raced and her brain considered every possible feeling she'd ever had, her hidden desires and wants slowly uncovered themselves to her.

There was zero doubt that one of her deepest hopes was to finally earn the love and acceptance of her father, no matter how estranged they were. Anyone who knew, even a bit, of her past could make that observation simply by having a conversation with her pertaining to her childhood.

The only thing she and her father had ever connected over was her love for exploration and treasure—a passion passed down by the very same man she yearned for. After all, she'd been named after Joseph Cooper, who was a pirate that her father admired for his decision to avoid capture by exploding his ship's cabin. It was unsurprising that, because of their shared passion, Josie then assumed that the acquisition of eighty million dollars from a sunken ship would be enough to draw her father back into her life.

The little girl inside her chest banged on the cage Josie had locked her in, and she begged to be loved by her father. Older Josie closed her eyes and tried her hardest to swallow the longing words of that girl that threatened to spew out of her mouth.

"If we find the treasure...what?" Kie urged Josie.

The older girl shook her head again and pressed her lips together as she opened her eyes. "Nothing. Never mind." She straightened in her seat once the salvage yard was in her sights, and Kie slowly pulled up to the gate.

Kiara looked like she wanted to argue Josie's disregard, but the redhead had climbed out of the car before she could get any words out.

Josie walked around to the driver's side as Kie exited the car. She surveyed the parking lot for the signs of any approaching teenage boys, eyes searching for familiar tufts of golden hair.

"Jo."

Her attention was pulled by her companion, who leaned down at the end of the Pogue to release the air from the boat's back tire. Josie questioningly glanced at her, and Kiara paused her sabotage to motion for Josie to remove her hoodie.

Josie's eyes widened, an incredible feeling of unease and embarrassment washing over here. "What? Why?"

"Because he's probably disgusting, and we need to use that to our advantage." She stood from the tire, wiping her hands on her shorts. "Just take it off."

"But-" Josie's rebuttal was halted by the sternly pointed look Kiara shot her, and she huffed. She walked back to open the driver's side back door, grabbing the bottom of her hoodie and tugging it over her head. She peevishly tossed it onto her seat at the front, before slamming the door shut.

She adjusted the tank top, which barely covered the sight of her bra. Her insecurities rang clear in her ears, spitting out the words about her linebacker shoulders and chubby biceps that were carved into every part of her brain. She crossed her arms over her chest and self-consciously rubbed at the place on her arm that her mother had criticized earlier that day.

As Kiara turned to lead them toward the gate, Josie's gaze wandered to scrutinizingly scan herself in the reflection of the car.

She cringed, immediately regretting the decision to look, as she started to take note of everything she found wrong. Her ponytail was a mess from the repetitive lift and removal of her hood, her tank top did nothing to cover most of her skin, her face was beet-red from the heat, and she hated the way her shorts looked paired with the aforementioned tank top.

Before she could judgmentally glare at herself anymore, Kiara hissed out her name again.

Josie went to follow her and promptly ignored the concerned look her friend sent her. She could only hope that Kiara hadn't witnessed much of her self-loathing; she dreaded being asked about it. Instead, she tried to focus on putting their plan into motion.

"Hello?" Kiara called, waving up to the security box that sat just behind the gate. "Excuse me?"

The security guard leaned up in his seat to peer out the window, and Josie plastered on a fake, distressed smile. She waved when he made eye contact, and the girls approached the gate and waited for him to address them.

He exited his station on the other side of the gate. "Can I help you, girls?"

Josie put on her best sweet voice, hand placed on her side as she leaned on one hip and slightly popped it out. She raised her other hand, as if to guard her eyes from the sun. "Hi! Um, our boat actually caught a flat on our way home." Josie pointed back at her friend's car and batted her lashes. "And when I called my dad, he said that you guys had been so nice to help him before—with his tire. We were hoping you could do the same for us?"

From the corner of her eye, Josie could see Kiara politely nod in agreement.

The guard looked around the salvage yard suspiciously, his gaze raking up and down both girls before moving to the SUV behind them. He nodded and gave a flirty smile. "Yeah. Yeah, sure."

"Great, thanks so much!" Josie turned to Kie, silently gagging once he was out of sight.

Kie smirked humoredly. "It's too easy."

"Well..." Josie shook her hand in an iffy motion, differing in her opinion on the ease of deception.

She placed her hands on her hips as they watched the guard open the rolling gate. Both girls plastered on fake smiles again as the man crossed the gate and motioned for them to lead the way.

☆

"How's it going with Kiara?" JJ asked as he peeked over their hiding spot to look at his favorite redhead. He silently applauded her efforts, along with Kie's, to woo over the security guard.

"It's, uh, not awkward, weird, or anything," John B sarcastically offered. "Yeah."

JJ snorted in amusement. "Honestly, I did not think you were gonna actually listen to me."

"What?"

"I was one hundred percent sure she was into you, bro," JJ defended himself. He glanced back at Josie, who he'd suddenly noticed was sans her hoodie. He coughed to cover his noise of surprise, eyes lingering over the exposed fabric of her navy bra. "Pope would agree."

The eldest boy shrugged, slightly tilting his head back and forth. "Ehh..."

"So, like...Kie, she, like, definitely gave you the Heisman?"

John B nodded confidently. "Oh, no question. Yup." He smirked. "Like you and Jose level Heisman."

JJ scoffed, shuffling as he tried to shrug off his offense at John B's accurate statement. "She didn't give me the Heisman."

"Yeah, she did," Pope cut in as he continued to watch for the girls' signal.

JJ leaned behind John B to smack the back of Pope's head and glare at him. "Did not. She can't give me the Heisman when there's no mackin' involved, genius. JB lipped Kie." JJ turned his attention back to John B, who cringed at the reminder. "That's why she canned you."

"Maybe she's just into somebody else," Pope nonchalantly offered. The other two turned to look at him curiously, and questioningly, but he avoided their stares.

☆

Kiara took the head of the trio and walked them down the driver's side to the back end of the boat. "It's just this back one right here." Kie raised her arm to lean on the boat, and Josie stood close behind on her left side. "I mean, it must've been a slow leak or something."

Once Josie was convinced his focus wouldn't wander, she subtly waved her right hand behind Kiara's back—the signal for the boys to move. Wherever they were hiding, she could only hope that they could actually spot the signal, considering she hadn't seen them.

After a few waves, she moved her hand to pretend she was picking something off Kie's shirt.

"Probably just been sitting in the yard too long?" The guard offered, and Kiara verbally agreed through a nod. Josie tried to subtly scan around for any sign of a familiar head of blond hair, before she shot a smile at the guard to keep away any suspicion.

She brought her finger to her mouth, playing casual as she bit down on her index nail. Her heart clambered in her chest as she considered the fact that they were relying on the boys to get in and out efficiently. Two words that never complemented each other well.

She did not want to be on the receiving end of any anger from the guard if he found them out.

Her gaze drifted toward the front gate, behind the guard, just in time to see three bodies squeeze their way through as it closed. She immediately averted her eyes in an attempt to avoid drawing attention to them.

"Yeah, I got this." The man nodded assuredly, smiling at the girls as he motioned down at the tire. They both returned the smile as Kie thanked him. Once he kneeled down to get to work, the duo shared an anxious look. Josie motioned her head toward the gate and nodded, confirming that all they had to do was wait for the boys to get the drone and get out.

Josie continued to chew on her nail, and her leg began to bounce as her eyes darted from the man to the gate and back again. She kicked around some of the gravel with her foot, trying to appear unbothered, when a noise of amusement drew her attention.

Her gaze darted to the man, who glanced up at her. "Got it?" Josie asked, hoping that she conveyed some sense of nonchalance as she politely smiled down at him.

"Anxious?"

Josie paused her leg and gaped at him, wide-eyed. "Uh, n-no. No..." Josie drawled, dismissively waving her hand. "No, I'm just a fidgety gal. Can never sit still."

The guy let out a chuckle and nodded, leaning back down to continue pumping air into the tire. Kiara subtly hit Josie's shoulder with her hand and disdainfully tilted her head. Clearly, one of them had not bought Josie's award-winning performance.

Josie shrugged, crossing her arms, and brought her nail back to her mouth. She actively refrained from bouncing her leg, limiting herself to one anxious tick. Kiara moved to lean against one of the vehicles parked beside them, and Josie made herself comfortable against the boat.

After a few minutes, Josie couldn't help but feel a bit optimistic. Maybe they were actually going to get away with their plan. There hadn't been any signs of failure from the boys yet, and no signs were good signs.

That was, until the distant sounds of barking came from somewhere among the property. Josie's head whipped up, and she silently cursed at the boys. Kiara vigorously shook her head at Josie, a command to keep their act up, and the redhead's gaze moved to the man just as he looked up at them.

"Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Kie asked in faux-confusion. In any other circumstance, Josie would've cackled at Kie gaslighting a man. But she braced herself as the man stood from his crouched position.

"Oh, Tebow's got somethin'."

"It's probably just a raccoon, maybe. Y'know?" Kiara quickly offered.

Josie nodded as she rose from her leaned position against the boat. "Yeah, there's been an infestation of them lately. Probably just ran up a tree to escape your dog," Josie tried to casually reassure.

Kie nodded, raising her hand toward Josie in agreement. "Nothin' to worry about."

"Yeah." The man agreed, bending back down beside the tire. Josie had to thank him; either he was incredibly gullible or extremely oblivious.

Josie's eyes moved upward to meet Kiara, who pointedly stared at her as she motioned her head behind the boat. Josie furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head in confusion, earning an eye roll from Kiara.

"Oh, shit, Jo. Didn't you tell your dad you'd call him once we got here?"

Josie's face contorted in perplexity, forehead creasing as she tilted her head. Kiara raised her brows as she wordlessly commanded the girl to follow along. What the hell was Kiara even saying?

"Yeah..." Josie slowly agreed, still quite puzzled, as Kiara motioned toward the car. She took a few moments to mull over Kiara's insinuation and rack her brain, when a lightbulb went off. Her brows raised in realization once she'd remembered her earlier claim about the tire, and she nodded.

"Yes, and I left my phone in the car. The one right there." She awkwardly pointed at the SUV. "So, we should go get that—my phone, that is—and call my dad."

Kiara impatiently observed Josie's attempt to sound convincing. And when the redhead promptly turned to race around the boat, Kiara followed, hot on her best friend's heels, as they left the man unattended.

As soon as they were around the vessel, Kiara removed her hairclip and crouched down by the boat's other back tire. She used it to push into the pressure valve and release the air, while Josie continued her path toward the car. She figured that the sound of her footsteps would cover the sound of Kie's pausing.

She turned to walk backwards, so that she could keep an eye on her friend. Her gaze widened when she saw the man rounding the back of the boat. Hurriedly, she darted forward to the girl and hissed out her name, but it was too late. Once he'd stopped to glance between them, her movements paused.

"What are you doing?" He, quite bewilderedly, asked the girl by the tire. Josie cringed, knowing that there was no way they could get any further with their plan.

But Kie maintained her composure. "This one looks a little low, too."

Finally choosing to heed his guard dog's barking, the guard shoved past Josie and sprinted back toward the yard. Kiara pleaded for him to stop, but he'd already pressed the button to open the gate by the time either girl had the chance to concoct another excuse.

"Shit!" Kie claimed, and Josie impetuously pushed at her shoulder to turn her around.

"Go, go! Get in the car!"

The both of them raced toward the doors—Josie getting in a bit before Kiara as the brunette raced around the boat. As Kie climbed in and started the car, Josie looked at her in bewilderment. "This one looks a little low, too?"

"Oh, whatever, says the fidgety gal," Kie snapped back.

Josie scanned the lot once again for any sign of the boys. "Should we wait? Do you think they're good?"

"I know we won't be if that guy comes back," Kie stated matter-of-factly. Josie sighed and nodded in agreement, still casting her eyes across the property. Kie quickly drove the car out of the lot and back onto the road, while Josie pulled her hoodie back over her torso.

She sighed, both in relief and anxiety, and leaned back into the seat. "I swear to God; if they get caught, I'm gonna kill all three of them."

Kie humoredly rolled her eyes and threw a sarcastic smile in Josie's direction. "As if you'd harm a hair on JJ's filthy blond head."

Josie scoffed and sat up, coming to her own defense. "Please! I literally smack him all the time. I'd have the capacity to kill him if I was angry enough."

Kie dubiously hummed, not sparing a glance at her friend, as she nodded. And, for a reason unbeknownst even to herself, Josie felt offended. She smacked her lips and crossed her arms, huffing as she slouched back in her seat. She ignored Kie's amused smile and pressed her tongue to the side of her cheek in annoyance.

Josie wasn't sure why Kiara's statement bothered her, but it certainly did. Why did she assume JJ would be the one she couldn't kill? Was it because they were the closest? Josie knew she joked about favoritism a lot when it came to JJ; maybe there was some truth to it.

It was a no-brainer that JJ was not only her favorite pogue, but also just her overall favorite person. There was no doubt he had the rest of the pogues beaten out for that spot, and everyone knew it. It just stung a little bit when it was so bluntly pointed out to her, and the negative connotation behind Kiara's words wasn't lost on Josie.

She could detect the slight bitterness in her friend's tone, despite her words being hidden behind humor, and it made her sad. She wanted her friends to know that she would do absolutely anything for all of her best friends. The last thing she would ever want was for them to doubt that.

The two of them stayed silent the rest of the drive back to Chateau. The only noise that accompanied them was the sound of the wind blowing through the open windows. Josie's eyes never diverted from their passing surroundings, and she tried to bury the tickle of emotion in her throat.

Once Kiara pulled the car to a stop in John B's driveway, Josie exited and completely disregarded her friend.

Kiara huffed, exhaling from her nose, as she jumped out and marched around the front of the vehicle. "Okay. What gives?"

Josie crossed her arms and leaned back against the SUV, staring down the driveway for a sign of the Twinkie approaching. Kie smacked her lips, obviously not in the mood to let another one of Josie's avoidant maneuvers slide. She slightly shoved her friend's shoulder to gain her attention.

Josie rudely swatted at the girl's hand with a seriously annoyed expression on her face.

"I'm sorry, Jo. It was a joke. Stop being so snubby."

"I'm sorry. Just a bad day." She shrugged off her friend's stern confusion, shuffling in her spot as she stared out into the darkness. She purposely avoided meeting Kie's gaze, stubbornly refusing to admit just how ridiculous her pouting was.

She just needed to sleep off her bad vibes. She just wanted to go home and snooze into her pillow.

Her irritation was stupid; Josie realized that. All Kiara had pointed out was what everyone already knew. But she couldn't help the strain in her throat, which was a direct reaction from her best friend so flatly pointing out that JJ would always garner special treatment.

To be honest, she felt a little called out. Maybe a bit too seen.

Josie rubbed her nose with her sleeve. "Can we please drop it? I promise, I'm just being a sensitive baby right now."

"Stop." Kiara quickly cut her off, shaking her head and grabbing Josie's biceps. Josie finally looked at her friend, who shot her a light-hearted glare. "Don't talk shit about my best friend like that."

Josie rolled her eyes and looked away, tongue pressed against her teeth as she fought the smile that threatened to grow. She tried to find a distraction, but Kiara gently shook her arms to draw her attention back. "Seriously, though. I get that you'll talk to me whenever you're ready, okay? Just don't be a bitch about it."

Josie questioningly raised her bows, and Kie shrugged. "I told you not to talk about my best friend like that. I said nothing about me."

Josie scoffed good-naturedly through an eye roll, lightly kicking the side of her friend's leg with her foot. She opened her mouth to teasingly retort back, when they were blinded by the headlights of the Twinkie.

She shielded her eyes with her hand as John B creeped up toward them. They made their way toward the van, and Josie leaned on the open passenger window. "So, what's the verdict?"

John B smirked at them, and JJ leaned between the front seats from his spot in the back. "Four hundred milli, here we come!"

The girls shared a laugh of disbelief, shaking their heads, as the boys shared a high five. Kiara gently nudged Josie aside and leaned into the open window beside her, glancing around at all of the pogues.

"I say we celebrate. Anybody hungry?"

"Hell yeah!" The boys shared cheers and victorious whoops. JJ frantically opened the back door of the van and reached out for Josie. She cackled as her best friend dragged her into the van, obviously energized at the mention of free food. Kiara was left to climb into the passenger seat.

JJ made himself comfortable next to Josie on the bench seat, and she reached over to share a celebratory pogue-shake with Pope. After, she turned back to her best friend, who'd thrown his left arm over the back of the seat as he impishly ran his hand over the top of her head, her ponytail practically ruined.

He then grabbed her opposite shoulder, shaking her excitedly, and she struggled to push him off as she merrily laughed at his antics. She complained that his hands were disgusting, and she groaned about him getting gunk in her air. But there was no real seriousness in her tone, and she grinned as she pinched his side playfully.

She subsequently failed to notice the bittersweet smile sent back at her from the front of the van.

For the rest of the drive to the Wreck, JJ took it upon himself to recount the entire experience of what they'd actually accomplished.

She'd smacked him in scolding when he told her about the dog and how he'd stupidly lured it toward him for a distraction. She bit her tongue when he mentioned how he'd used his dad as an excuse to get away. And, she cheered out toward John B when JJ told her about how he'd broken the lock with a pipe. A shared laughter rang through the Twinkie as John B waved his hand and pretended to bow.

Halfway through the drive, having mellowed, JJ decided to instead mess with Josie at any chance he could get. From gently pulling at the ends of her ponytail until she smacked him, to playing really short rounds of I-Spy because she somehow always guessed it on the first try.

By the time they'd arrived at the Wreck, the adrenaline from their escape had dwindled significantly.

"Stealing drones makes you hungry," Kie sighed out. Josie laughed as she let out a noise of agreement.

Pope slid the back door open, waving his hand toward the duo, and Josie let JJ go first. She amusedly watched him take his time to hop out of the van. "What I would do to a beer and shrimp and grits right now."

"It would not be pretty," Pope commented. He clambered out of the van in front of Josie, who climbed out last. She leaned back in to grab her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. Stretching her arms out above her head, her joints clicked as she wiggled her fingers and groaned.

JJ smiled down at her, before he shut the door and threw his arm back around her shoulder. But, just as quickly as it was around her, Josie shrugged off the contact.

His hand had fallen a little too close to her sleeved bicep and, by proxy, her armpit, and she still felt off about drawing any attention to that part of her body. She purposely ignored the sad, confused look he gave her.

Instead, she marched through the door to join Kiara in greeting her dad.

"Hey, Boss-Man." Josie waved as Kie hugged her dad, and the man smiled back at her. Josie was incredibly lucky to have her best friend's parents as bosses. They were incredibly lenient about schedules, and they almost never made her work when she had no desire to.

Guess it helped to have known your bosses for a large portion of your life.

"Hey, kid. Long day?"

Josie sighed and leaned back against the counter. She dramatically rolled her eyes and threw her head back. "The longest. How was business?"

"Well, like I just told Kiara, not great," he said, honestly, as he shook his head.

Kiara pursed her lips as she continued to hug her dad, and she shared a brief look with Josie. "Guess now is not the best time to ask for free food for me and my friends?" She pulled back to flash him an innocent smile and grabbed Josie's elbow to pull her in for backup.

Josie flashed him her best smile, pleading to feed the boys that wandered around the dining area like raccoons searching for food. He sighed and leaned on the counter with an unimpressed stare. "Look at them. They're greedy pelicans.""

The girls turned to glance at the boys, who were basically standing over the table of some customers. They all looked like they were mere seconds away from snatching the plates from the table. If she hadn't known them, Josie could've sworn that they hadn't eaten in months.

"I thought I told you to stop hanging around these guys." He raised his eyebrows at Josie. "And I know your mama told you to stop."

"Well, everybody at the Kook Academy hates us, Dad," Kiara bitterly retorted. She glanced over at Josie, who nodded in solidarity.

The Grey girl had some kook acquaintances who she was friendly with—it came with the territory. But, for the most part, she'd signed away any friendships with kooks the moment she'd decided to befriend the mischievous eight-year-old she'd sat beside in the third grade.

"'Cause you never gave 'em a chance."

"I did give them a chance," Kie countered. Josie pursed her lips and averted her eyes from the conversation, feeling a sudden awkwardness being in the middle of the debacle. "They got stuck up on me. I mean, they care more about shoes than surfing. What am I supposed to do with that?"

Mr. Carrera sighed in defeat, knowing he couldn't fight his daughter's stance.

Josie softly smiled when Kie wrapped her arm around Josie's back and flanked back at the guys. "These are my friends."

The boys noticed the three of them staring, and they all gave their own little versions of awkward waves. JJ sent Josie a look of inquiry, but she just shook her head and smiled.

Mike scoffed out a chuckle and sighed. "Well, I-I got-" He sighed, and the relent in his tone caused Josie to look up at him enthusiastically. "I gotta throw it out. Might as well. Take it."

Josie fist-bumped the air in celebration and let out a little cheer as Kie jumped to hug and thank her dad. Josie leaned in to give him a grateful side-hug, laughing when he patted her head.

Kie turned to the boys, smile dropping to maintain her chill façade. "Sit down," she commanded flatly, and they all groaned in relief at the confirmation.

All three of them raced to crowd around the table the girls approached. JJ rushed to sit next to Josie, pulling her chair out just before she could, and plopped down on the one next to it. Josie chuckled and sat down as she shoved his shoulder, turning to full laughter when he caught the hand and gently bit down on her index finger.

Her eyes scanned the table, smile quickly fading when, like a cold shower, the discussion she'd shared with her mother that morning washed over her. It'd completely left her mind—the fact that she was expected to heavily diet those next few days. She'd been too busy wanting to celebrate their victory.

It quickly registered that she'd have to avoid eating while also trying to hide it from her friends. She could already feel the incoming panic gnawing at her belly.

JJ could immediately sense the change in Josie's behavior. He lowered her hand, the one already in his grasp, to sit on his lap as he slightly leaned toward her. "What? What's up?"

"Huh?" She looked over at his furrowed features, and she held back from reaching out to smooth the crinkle of his forehead. "No, it's, uh, it's nothing." She pulled her hand from his, physically shaking the question and his touch off as she glanced over at her other friends.

Kiara and Pope were in a heated discussion, and John B was excitedly watching it as he cheered on whatever side he thought was winning.

"Jose..." JJ playfully drawled the nickname as he faux-scolded her. He leaned in to jestingly push his forehead into her cheek. Against her best interest, a giggle slipped past her lips. She shoved his head back, groaning when he resisted against her palm.

"Promise, Jay, I'm just being stupid." She let go of his head and politely smiled when Mike set down some plates at the center of the table, but she refrained from reaching for anything.

The blond to her left lifted from his seat to snatch a plate of shrimp and grits toward him. Once he realized Josie hadn't picked anything, he, like it was second nature, casually grabbed a plate of hushpuppies and crab pot-pie and placed it in front of her.

Her favorite.

"Don't promise if it's not true, Jo." He sat back down in his seat, almost immediately digging into his food. "And don't say you're stupid again, unless you wanna throw hands." He faced her and lifted his arms in a boxing stance, pretending to punch her shoulder.

Josie rolled her eyes and smacked his hands, subtly pushing her plate away. She, instead, reached for the water Kie had so kindly poured for her when she'd walked around with drinks. As she sipped it, she tried to ignore the way her stomach growled at the smell of her favorite meal.

She opted to dig into the bag that she'd hung on the back of her chair. She rummaged through the main pocket, before pulling out a packet of gum. She popped a piece into her mouth and took another sip of water.

Hopefully, the strong taste of peppermint could curb the grumble of her stomach.

"Can I have one?" JJ spoke through a mouthful of food, nodding at the pate of hushpuppies. Josie snickered and pushed the plate toward him.

"You can have 'em all."

The boy's eyes widened as she shook his head, shocked by the words that left his best friend's lips. He swallowed the food he'd shoved into his mouth and stared at Josie as if she'd just told him she hated surfing. "You're not gonna eat any of 'em? The same girl who ate fifty-five of them suckers, and then threw up to eat another twenty, isn't gonna eat any?"

Josie cringed at the memory, her stomach queasy at the mere thought. "I'm just not hungry, Jay." She swirled the straw in her water cup, watching the ice as it tapped against the paper sides.

JJ continued to shovel food into his mouth, but the redhead barely strayed from his eyesight. "Butsd yourfg dibnht ebem ert oh dah boarft."

Josie chuckled and scrunched up her nose at his attempt to speak through a mouthful of food, smacking his shoulder lightly. She grinned, amused, and shook her head. "I got none of that."

He dramatically swallowed, reaching out for the soda cup Kie had given him to wash it down. He then turned to fully focus on Josie. "You didn't even eat on the boat. Which means you're goin' on about ten hours of no grub." He reached out to jokingly squeeze her stomach, and Josie instantly slapped his arm away. She gave him a stern, scolding look, but he rolled his eyes as if she were being ridiculous.

"Now, I may not be as smart as you and Mr. Vanderhorst over there..." JJ's voice rose enough for Pope to hear from the seat he'd moved to, which was behind them up at the counter. The older pogue retaliated by throwing down a hushpuppy at JJ, which he successfully ducked from. "But I know that you need to eat more than one bowl of cereal a day, maybe two."

Josie struggled to find a response to her best friend's unusually serious statement. There hadn't been much thought given to how she was going to explain to everyone that she wasn't supposed to be eating. She just hoped no one would be preceptive enough to question her when she said that she wasn't hungry. After all, it's not like she was a terrible liar.

Before she had a chance to reply to JJ, a fry came flying at him.

John B's obnoxious laugh rang throughout the Wreck, and JJ grinned as he turned his eyes over to the humored brunette. He was obviously growing bored with the lack of attention given to him. He threw another fry at JJ, who leaned back that time to catch it in his mouth. He missed, but he cheesily smiled as the fry plopped onto his lap.

Their conversation was seemingly tabled, as the group continued to chow down on the free food without conversation about Josie's lack of participation. She was even able to pull her Polaroid out of her bag and snap some pictures of her friends messing around.

She got a disgusting picture of JJ cheesing through a mouthful of grits, and she captured the exact moment a plate of ketchup-covered fries tipped over into John B's lap. Everything was perfect, and her discussion with JJ slowly slipped from her mind.

That was until Kiara began to try and convince John B to dance with her. While the two of them were distracted, JJ turned to Josie with a semi-serious expression. "Alright, Grey, spill. You've been acting wack all day."

Josie exhaled through her nose, staring into the deep blue eyes that would always deliver a familiar sense of comfort to her soul. He stared at her as if it really bothered him to not know what was wrong with her—like it was eating at him. JJ was a lot of things, and among those, he was too stubborn to just let something like Josie's discomfort go unnoticed.

Josie dug around in her head for the correct way to phrase what she was feeling—experiencing—without fully saying what she knew was wrong with her. How was she supposed to tell her friend that she was uncomfortable with the way she looked because of her mother? How does one explain that every bad thought they've ever had about themselves originated from the same person who created them?

If there was anyone Josie knew who understood that feeling, it was JJ.

"If I ask you something, swear you'll be honest with me?"

"Brutally," JJ immediately answered through a grin.

Josie nodded in relief and turned to face him in her seat. Her knees brushed the side of his thigh as she moved them to rest in between their chairs. She exhaled, rubbing her newly sweaty palms on her jean shorts. "Do you-" She paused, closing her eyes as she recoiled from her own question.

"Do you think I'm...pleasant-looking?"

"Pleasant-looking?" JJ chuckled, brows furrowed as he repeated her statement like he didn't understand what she was inquiring.

Josie huffed, wishing he'd just answer the question without asking his own. "Attractive, JJ. Do you think I'm, like, objectively attractive?" Her eyes stayed shut, unwilling to face whatever expression he'd held. But the sudden sound of choking and coughing caused them to shoot back open.

The sound went as quickly as it came—not enough to draw attention to him. But it was enough for Josie to feel like she needed to reach out and pat his back. As her hand rubbed vertical motions, her face scrunched, and she avoided directly looking at him.

She felt completely embarrassed by his reaction.

"Where the hell did that come from?" JJ shook his head, bewildered, and gulped down his soda.

Josie retracted her hand from his spine. "JJ, please, just answer the question."

"W-Well, I, uhm, I-" His stuttering made Josie dread his answer even more. JJ was not easily flustered.

Still, she persisted. "You can be honest with me."

JJ paused, thoughtfully, and turned to fully stare at her, knees touching as he slightly scooted his chair back to make room. He could finally make out the catastrophic waves of dread that filled her eyes and painted her expression. His shoulders shrank as he took in the severity of her question.

He grabbed both of her shoulders and playfully narrowed his eyes, slouching to match her line of vision. "Jose, of course, you're a freaking smokeshow. You're, like, insanely hot and pleasant-looking." He wiggled his eyebrows to tease her prior wording, before he let go of her and turned back in his seat.

"Jay," Josie groaned out as she pushed his shoulder, realizing she wasn't going to receive a serious answer.

He grabbed her hand through his own laugh, squeezing it to get her to look back at him. "Jo, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Jo." He smiled, tugging at her hand a bit. "No, actually, though; don't ever doubt that shit. You're easily one of the best-looking people I've ever seen."

Josie smiled appreciatively at him, placing her right elbow on the table and resting her chin on her knuckles, and felt the clench that perpetually surrounded her chest let up a little. His words made her feel supported, particularly in her need to remind herself that she was beautiful. No matter how she looked.

Her gaze lingered as he held it with his own. All sorts of alarm bells rang out in her brain. Reminders of a certain handsome, six-foot-one kook flashed across her vision. She couldn't help but consider how inappropriate this entire conversation might seem to someone like her boyfriend.

Josie could feel the energy between herself and her best friend shift like gears in a clock tower. For some strange reason, a faint bubbling feeling grew at the bottom of her stomach, while her heart rate picked up exponentially.

She stared into the blues of JJ's eyes—a color much like the ocean he'd found a home in throughout their childhood. But, while he had found his home in the actual water, she had always preferred seeking comfort in the color of his eyes.

She was certain she'd never seen anything so blue.

Their hands laid flat on his lap, her left one clasped in both of his with her palm facing out, while the right one still held her head. The soft skin of his thumb brushed against her palm, gentle caresses moving back and forth as if almost subconsciously. In the exact places where their hands met, Josie could feel the heat of his soul combining with the heat of her own. Like two flames merging together to make one enormously vibrant fire.

If she didn't know any better, she'd almost say that the distance between them had steadily closed the more they talked. Similar to how two magnets were drawn to each other, no matter the circumstance. Two ends of something that are always meant to meet and create their own middle.

It was overwhelming—the puffs of breath that brushed the strand of hair that had fallen from her ponytail. They were too much for her to bear. She feared she might willingly suffocate in them if it meant staying in her best friend's proximity.

The palms of her hands grew sweaty once again, and she made the decision to pull her hand away from the blond. Her head lifted from her hand, and she felt the built-up energy between them slowly melt. But it didn't completely disappear.

Never completely.

She internally tried to calm her racing heartbeat, not-so-subtly rubbing her hands off on her thighs. She ignored the furrowed look JJ gave her, and she covered up her labored breaths with a couple of coughs that she tried to play off.

She glanced around at her friends, hoping and praying that none of them had also witnessed the intense energy shared between the two best friends. She continued to ignore the unwavering stare of her companion, opting to look up and smile at her dancing best friends.

She peeked over her shoulder to spot Pope, only to find him watching the brunette duo with saddened eyes. Josie could see through his expression just how heavy his heart lay in his chest, and her own clenched at the thought. He looked like a kicked puppy—like someone had just torn his heart in half right in front of him.

Her eyes widened in realization, flicking back and forth between the dancing duo and the frowning boy. She'd seen that look before.

She'd seen it when Rafe Cameron found out that she'd started dating the new kid, every time Cory caught a glimpse of a photo the girls had with their dad, or that one time in the fifth grade when JJ found out that Josie had picked John B to be her first-mate instead of him.

She'd seen it in her own eyes earlier that morning, after she'd seen the beauty of Sarah Cameron twirling in her dress.

Jealousy. Bitter and green.

A variety of emotions flooded Josie's veins at the realization that Pope was jealous of what she could only assume was Kiara dancing with John B. What other reason would he have to have looked so longingly and so hurt by the innocent act of enjoyment? He had to have been harboring a crush on one of the two.

She felt bitter that some of them were still finding a desire in themselves to cross that line. She felt fearful at the idea of what those feelings could do to Pope's relationship with them. She felt annoyed that they had to repeat this process right after what'd happened when John B kissed Kiara.

But, surprisingly, the most evident emotion Josie felt was sorrow.

Pain weighed heavily in her chest as she thought about how awful Pope must feel. Not only because he probably felt embarrassed for harboring feelings for one of them, but because he also had to watch his crush get kissed by one of his best friends. Then he had to watch that same crush flirtingly dance with that same best friend.

She couldn't bear for him to wear a look of melancholy any longer. "C'mon, P."

Josie stood from her seat, squeezing past behind JJ to step up toward the counter, and held out her hand. Pope squinted at her in confusion, shaking his head to show that he had no clue what she was asking of him. She grinned and wiggled her outstretched fingers at him, humming in finality. Once he realized what she was requesting, his expression dropped even further than before. He stared at her, unimpressed.

But, naturally, it didn't deter the redhead as she rolled her eyes at him. "Pope..." She drawled out his name. "Come on! In the wise words of a young poet, 'dance with me. The earth is spinning, and we can't just stand on it!'" She grabbed both of his hands and pulled up off his seat toward the middle of the restaurant.

"Who the hell said that?"

"No clue; I read it somewhere online once. The sentiment still stands, though!" She grinned and lifted his hand to twirl him under her arm, and she obnoxiously laughed as he obliged. He then did the same to her, frivolously pulling her into him, and she placed her hand on his shoulder.

They began to over-dramatically waltz around in a tiny circle, movements coltish, as Pope occasionally spun Josie under their hands or into his chest. He theatrically dipped her, before allowing her to do the same to him as they shared a gleeful laugh.

They were no way in time with the music, but Josie didn't care. All she cared about was the wide smile she'd been able to bring forth on Pope's face. She silently hoped the distraction offered him at least some respite from the heavy weight of his suffering heart.

In fact, she was so focused on distracting Pope that she unknowingly disregarded the bitter gazes that settled on the pair. And just like that, jealousy broke free of its hold on Pope and chokingly grasped onto two others, filling their throats with calamitous longing.

⋄ ⋟⋆ june 21, 2020

i love home. i love the place where i learned to love so deeply that, sometimes, it pains me. but there are days, moments littered in between the rise and fall of the sun, that I wish I was one of those people who moves thousands of miles away and never looks back. someone who has adventures untangled from their past and where they come from. but I could never keep myself from looking back. I'll always look back. I find I am forever diligently defined by every person or place I've ever loved. I love, I love, I love. so why can't I love myself the way I love life?

- josephine grey ⋄ ⋟⋆

[mizufae]

Have been informed that the platinum blonde twinky elf with an attitude from the currently popular video game is actually a vampire? Is this some kind of twilight medieval fantasy AU fan fiction game

[artpeacefully]

XV. The Devil Another custom dnd tarot in my set: The Moon. [X] The Fool. [X] [more to be added later] Greed, lust, possession and selfishness. Escher from Curse of Strahd has an expanded role in our game and I cannot WAIT to see where it goes! 

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

Steve has been an amazing help in recent months. Dedicates most of his spare time to making sure that Eddie is comfortable, well-fed and taken care of.

In a boyfriend way, not a pity way.

Eddie is thankful for that. Everyone in this shithole town looks at him like he’s got an expiration date, and he doesn’t know what he’d do if Steve joined them. If he ever started to look at Eddie like he was already dead.

“Let’s make this quick, yeah?”

Smoke leaks from Billy’s mouth as he unfolds the wheelchair. Holds the handles steady from behind while Eddie leans out of the passenger seat of the van and hoists himself into it. Arms shaking. Lungs shrinking. He normally has Steve here to make the task easier, to help scoop him up or at least give him a helping hand, and maybe even a kiss on the forehead. Regardless of whether or not they’re in public.

But Steve isn’t here, and the most he gets is a steady hand on the wheelchair as he maneuvers into the seat and a pat on the shoulder when he’s done.

Billy shuts the door to the van and pockets the keys. Strolls past Eddie and towards the storefront, pulling the door open and holding it for a couple of ladies as they exit while he waits for Eddie.

Eddie who grips the wheels with pins and needles in his fingers and lurches himself forward. Heaving softly under his breath as he rolls up the slanted curb and through the threshold.

As he passes, Billy gently nudges his bicep with his knuckles.

“Breathe, Munson,” he encourages.

“You’re lucky I don’t have legs or I’d kick your ass,” Eddie wheezes.

The blond chuckles. Smoke curls in the air, and suddenly there are fingers wrapping around the chair’s handles. Eddie sighs. Rests his hands in his lap and lolls his head back, stares up at Billy as he gets pushed down the nearest aisle.

He’s not really sure why he insisted on joining Billy this morning. Maybe it’s because he’s been going a little stir crazy, confined to the first story of the Harrington house with nothing to do but mill around and watch tv. The board games and books that he was gifted by Dustin and Mike have kept him decently occupied, but even a nerd like him has limits.

Besides, the sun can do him some good, right? He has to be paler than a vampire by now—

“What kinda snacks do you feel like?” Billy asks. He combs a hand through Eddie’s hair as he steps around the chair to examine the shelves that they’ve parked next to. “You wanna switch anything up?”

“Anything but Twinkies. I’ve had so many Twinkies that if I smell the frosting I might puke.”

“Mm.”

Billy looks over the assortment of snack foods thoughtfully. Rolls his cigarette between his teeth and plucks a pack of Oreos from the shelf, plopping it into Eddie’s lap along with a few bags of chips.

All things that Eddie likes. Right down to the flavors and everything.

Though Billy simply stalks away and gestures for him to follow with the curl of his fingers over his shoulder, Eddie feels warm inside. Grabs onto the wheels and moves forward again.

The healing process has been… difficult. To say the very least. Dealing with phantom pains and bedsores has been relatively easy when compared to everything else. To the knowledge of fucked up parallel universes and the trauma that he’s endured.

His mind feels more fucked up than his body sometimes. Not that he’d ever breathe a word of that to anyone— specifically not to Steve.

The twisted flesh at his sides, the scar on his cheek, and the little dimples left behind from stitches are all physical reminders of the incident, as they’ve come to call it. Much like the Upside Down is an echo of Hawkins, Eddie views the physical injuries as echoes of his internal ones. Manifested, almost, as itchy blisters and puckered pink skin that refuses to tan in the sun.

It helps knowing that Steve bears similar marks. On his forearms and his sides, and his back. He doesn’t think twice about taking his shirt off at the pool or throwing on a crop top when it gets hot outside. Eddie admires that.

He also admires Billy in a similar respect. For continuing to unbutton his shirts down to his navel and flaunt himself despite the scar tissue that stretches from his sternum all the way down to his belly and wraps around his back. Angry and red and not at all a hinderance to his carefree attitude.

After all, what’s a little baggage to a King of Hawkins? Former or not.

The blond is browsing the end of a shelf a few aisles down, and Eddie wheels himself a bit faster. Plans on making some kind of screeching noise as he comes to a stop like a car coming to a halt at a traffic light. Just to make Billy laugh.

Because he has an oddly mild sense of humor like that. Aside from the obvious bitchy stuff that he’s more well-known for.

But that’s ruined when Eddie turns abruptly to avoid colliding with another customer exiting an aisle, snacks flying out of his lap in the process. Without even looking up, he dips down to pick up the items he dropped.

“Sorry,” he says. “Didn’t see you there.”

It’s a stretch. Strains the tired muscles in his back to reach for the bag of Doritos, but he’s so close, if he can just get a little closer—

The bag is kicked away, and Eddie barely catches himself with a hand braced on the armrest as the chair lurches backwards. He huffs. Feels a rush of panic seep into the hollow of his chest as he steadies himself and sits up, hands already shaking.

God, he wishes he didn’t have to feel like this. Why does he feel like this?

“You just can’t seem to leave me alone, can you, freak?”

Breathe, Munson.

Eddie inhales. Exhales. In through his nose and out through his mouth like Robin showed him once. Or was it in through his mouth and out through his nose?

The chair jerks back again, and this time collides with a small shelf of pastries, sending plastic boxes tumbling to the floor.

“I’m talking to you,” a voice hisses.

Eddie looks up. Gets a beautiful view of none other than Jason Carver glaring down at him. Fists clenched. Chest puffing. Looking like he’s on the verge of exploding out of his skin.

“Y’know, I’m getting sick of hearing your name everywhere I go. Of hearing people talk about you like you’re some survivor, some victim,” Jason says. “Why can’t you just get out of my life?”

It’s stupid. It’s so stupid, but Eddie actually feels bad for the guy.

He’s never seen a golden boy go sour in the public eye so fast. Go from the talk of the town, the pride of the high school, to social pariah.

That thought is quickly usurped by another, and Eddie pinches his brows together.

“What, you just want me to not go grocery shopping? Grow up,” he huffs. “It’s a small town, dude, we’re gonna bump into each other.”

Jason tightens his jaw. Squares his shoulders, and Eddie fears that he’s made a grand mistake for a moment before the thud of heavy boots on the tile approaches, and Jason is being spun around.

It’s lightening fast, the way the rage melts from his expression.

Cans clutter to the floor. The shelf nearly tips over with how hard Jason’s shoulders collide into it, and he breathes a pained sound as he’s pinned against it. A pair of fists tangled in the lapels of his letterman jacket.

“I should drag you out back and leave you for dead in a dumpster,” Billy growls.

Face inches away from Jason’s. Blistering red all the way down his neck like Eddie has never seen before.

His shoulders are bunched up. Cigarette pinched angrily between his lips, merely a butt now, and it sends a chill up the brunet’s spine just to bear witness to it all. Even more so when he notices that Jason’s sneakers aren’t touching the ground.

“Billy,” Eddie manages. Straightens and wheels himself closer. “Billy, it’s okay—“

He snaps his mouth shut when a sickening glare fixes on him. Then Billy turns back to Jason, who grips onto his wrists. Looking vaguely dazed.

“I don’t wanna see you near him ever again, you understand?” Billy warns.

Jason huffs.

“He ran into me. I’m the victim of a hit and run here.”

He grunts when Billy draws him away from the shelf and slams him back into it.

“Shut the fuck up, Carver, or I’ll smear you so hard against the sidewalk that you’ll be tasting brimstone.” It comes out quiet. Like a promise. “Do I make myself clear?”

By now, there are employees as well as other customers staggered around. Watching just like Eddie with baited breath. When Jason doesn’t respond, Billy slides him further up the shelf.

“Sign or signal. Now,” he prods.

Jason manages a nod. Pinches his lips together and grunts when he’s dropped back to his feet, straightening his jacket and immediately putting a good foot of distance between him and Billy, who’s still fuming like an overworked furnace.

He casts a fleeting glance at Eddie before he reluctantly turns away. Hisses when Billy flicks his cigarette butt at the back of his neck.

It’s probably the most scared that Eddie has been in months when a pair of blue eyes fixes on him.

But then Billy is crouching in front of his wheelchair. Eyes glassy as he sets his hand on Eddie’s thigh with the most delicate of touches, like he’s expecting the brunet to recoil from it.

“I’m sorry, Edd—“ his voice catches in his throat, and Eddie feels a sharp pang of guilt settle deep between his ribs. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

For a moment, Billy just looks up at him. Then he nods softly. Reaches over and picks up the items that fell out of Eddie’s lap before he tucks them under his arm and stands up.

Eddie can do nothing but sit there as he’s pushed through the store. Straight back to the front and up to the register, where Billy checks out with less than half of what they came here to buy. It’s silent from then on until they get out to the van. Billy stows their single bag in the back, and just as Eddie begins to gear up to haul himself into the passenger seat, the blond steps in front of him.

“I think you’ve done enough for today,” he coos.

Gently reaches around Eddie’s back and hoists him up with ease. Sets him in the passenger seat carefully with a soft smile before he shuts the door and folds the chair closed.

Eddie… well, Eddie’s ears burn as he buckles himself in.

Waits patiently for Billy to climb behind the wheel.

When he does, he plugs the key into the ignition, but doesn’t start it. For a few tense seconds, he just sits there. A worm of guilt starts to inch up Eddie’s spine as he fiddles with his rings in his lap, already thinking of a mountain of apologies to give.

He knows that it isn’t his fault. That he couldn’t have predicted the events of today in order to stop them from happening. But he feels the burden of it anyway. Feels stupid and insignificant and—

Billy turns in his seat. Pulls Eddie into a hug. A tight, secure hug, and tucks his face into the crook of his neck. Eddie takes a flustered moment to remember to reciprocate it.

A lump gathers in his throat when he feels moisture against his skin.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” Billy sighs.

“It’s okay. I’m okay, Bills, I promise.”

He rubs Billy’s back soothingly. Squeezes him when he sniffles and tilts their heads together.

“I shouldn’t’ve left you, it’ll never happen again.”

“Just breathe, baby. Like you always remind me, alright? Breathe.”

And Billy listens. Inhales deeply and sighs into his skin. In through his nose and out through his mouth, funnily enough. Lets Eddie shush into his ear and rock them softly side to side until every one of his muscles is relaxed.

He might not handle every situation like Steve. Might not cook for Eddie or wait on him hand and foot like Steve does. But that’s okay.

Because although he makes Eddie work just a little bit harder for things, makes him push himself more than anyone else, he cares. Enough to scare the living shit out of probably the most feared guy in town. Enough to break down crying right afterwards for not doing more.

Truth be told, Eddie wouldn’t change that. Not for anything in the world.

[intergalactic-nebula]

Till Kingdom Come

Chapter Nine

This was weird. Sitting alone in front of a roaring fireplace was weird. Being here was weird. Everything was weird. She tried to focus on the flames but constantly found herself distracted by other things, such as loose threads in the red velvet rug she was sitting on, or her split ends. Normally she hated silence, but it being so quiet was driving her positively mad. "Can I braid your hair?" Padmé asked from behind her and Rey jumped while letting out a cry of surprise.

"S-stop sneaking up on me!"

"Oh, my dear, I'm sorry, I'll try to remember." Padmé smiled apologetically as Rey looked over her shoulder at her with a scowl before looking back forward. "...I've never had my hair braided, does it hurt?" Rey asked and Padmé chuckled as she sat behind her, the older (MUCH older in actual years than looks) woman gently bringing Rey's hair to her back. "No, it doesn't hurt. Well, it can sometimes, but that's only if you want a glorious look for an event." Padmé smiled once more as she began to gently braid her hair and Rey stared into the crackling flames.

"An event? Like a party?"

"Yes, exactly like a party! I didn't know they had parties in the wastelands!" Padmé announced excitedly and Rey instantly deflated. "Yeah, we have...parties..." Rey swallowed thickly as she thought of the 'parties' Plutt had thrown. They weren't parties, they were just huge fights where people betted on money and whoever won...got to...with her... "Honey, breathe." Padmé whispered in a soft, motherly tone and Rey let out a shaky breath as she looked down at the floor. "Do you have your inhaler?" Padmé asked as she paused the braiding and Rey quickly shook her head. "I don't need it--"

"Sometimes we think we don't need things when, in actuality, we need them the most." Padmé gently squeezed her shoulders and Rey had to stop herself from leaping up and throwing a punch. Padmé isn't Plutt. Padmé isn't a scavenger. Padmé could easily kill her if she tried to fight her. "...Are you married to Vader or something?" Rey asked, deciding to change the subject for the better, and the female vampire let out a coo of delight at the question. "Why, yes we are, Rey. We've been married for over two thousand years, isn't that marvelous? And our love hasn't dampened a day." Padmé hummed happily as she started braiding Rey's hair again and Rey began to chew her lower lip. "But he wants me as--"

"Oh, no, Rey! No, no, it isn't like that at all!" Padmé gasped loudly and Rey furrowed her brow in confusion. Personal livestock were made for their pale beast's every need, she didn't understand. Why was this different? "No, no, you're family! He sees you as a daughter of sorts, he would never--"

"He fed off of me, I don't--"

"He was marking you so no one else would bite you, that's all! Has it healed nicely, by the way? May I see?" Padmé reached out to touch the bandage but Rey instantly jumped up and took a few quick steps back. They didn't know. They really didn't know? Kylo didn't tell them? "U-uh, I think that's a little personal, yeah? Personal space? Personal bubble?"

"Oh, come on, you were letting me braid your hair!" Padmé laughed and Rey bit her lower lip harshly...to the point where she drew blood. Padmé's expression immediately changed and Rey quickly covered her mouth. "...I could heal that," Padmé sounded breathless, eager. "For you." She licked her lips and Rey backed up until her back hit the wall before violently shaking her head. "We don't want your hands all bloody, do we? I can heal it," Padmé slowly stood up and Rey felt as if she was about to pass out. "Let me heal it." Her voice got lower as she started to approach her and Rey squeezed her eyes shut tightly. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵, 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰, Rey thought to herself but Padmé's hands never touched her. She opened one eye cautiously to see a blonde male in about his late teens standing in front of her with his arms held out to his sides to shield her, Padmé huffing in annoyance.

"Luke, stop, she's bleeding!"

"She barely bit her lip and you're trying to feed off of her using that as an excuse! Both you and father don't understand mortal fear anymore!" He protested and Rey breathed shakily as she opened her other eye.

"Mortal fear? She's not afraid--"

"Yes, she is!" Luke cut her off and Padmé pressed her lips together in a tight line before sighing loudly and looking away. "She smells like him, Luke, what do you expect of me...? I loved him too, just as equally as your father. He was ours--"

"She's not Obi-Wan," Luke stated and Rey nearly cried out in joy. Finally! Someone who didn't see her as Obi-Wan or a Kenobi! "She's not Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan is dead...because of father." Luke bit out harshly and Padmé looked as if she had been shot in the heart, the Empress suddenly vanishing.

"I--thank you." Rey whispered and Luke stepped away from her, the blonde sighing while running a hand through his hair. He looked about the same age as her, but his eyes were red. Oh no. He called Vader 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. "I'm Luke, by the way, and no, I'm not like my father. I don't feed on humans, I like them too much." Luke smiled as he leaned against the wall beside her and she glanced over at him. "You...don't feed on humans? How are you alive?"

"Animals," Luke hummed and Rey's jaw dropped. Animals! A vegetarian pale beast! ...A vegetarian pale beast? That's a thing? "Yes, that's a thing." Luke chuckled and Rey felt her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. She hated that the purebloods could read her mind. "I mean, I'm the only one, so...it's not really a thing? But it is to me? I stopped feeding on humans over a thousand years ago, and everyone in my family looks down on me for it--well, except Han, but he's a swell dude." Luke shrugged and Rey looked away.

"So...you knew him?"

"Knew who?"

"...Obi-Wan Kenobi." Rey stated flatly after deadpanning at his response and he blinked a few times. "Yeah, I knew Obi-Wan. Everyone here that's a nightstalker knew Obi-Wan." Nightstalker. That's right, that's what they formally called themselves. Other names were vampires, leeches, pale beasts, blood takers, and numerous other things, but nightstalkers were what they liked to be called. She hated it.

"Obi-Wan was...it's complicated. He was the last lycan, Emperor Palpatine had wiped them all out, but...father bonded with him in solitary. They became extremely close with each other, so father killed Palpatine, took the throne, and had both Obi-Wan and mother at his side for over a thousand years. Then...Obi-Wan found out that father helped kill all the lycans, and found out that he was planning on turning him--'fixing' him," Luke suddenly looked extremely uncomfortable and Rey was glad that she wasn't the only one who found it so. "So he ran off. He ran off and joined the humans. He went by 'Ben Wolvesbane' I believe. We knew it was him being talked about in the papers, he didn't think clearly when choosing the name 'Ben', and I think 'Wolvesbane' was a huge, intentional 'fuck you' to my father." Luke looked down and to the side, Rey slowly sitting on the floor beside him.

"I only ever found one article about the war, and it was about Leia and this place. Everything that had to do with the war that was written...is mostly gone by now. Humans don't like accepting defeat, so I s'pose they burned it all or something." Rey mumbled as she drew a circle on the floor with her index finger, Luke sighing and moving to sit behind her.

"What are you--"

"She didn't finish the braid, it's bothering me." He muttered as he started braiding her hair and Rey felt her cheeks grow hot once more. Fuck the braid, she wanted to talk about the war!

"It's just a braid--"

"Yes, now it is." Luke sighed in content as he gently took a strip of ribbon off her dress and tied the end of the braid off. "Padmé and C3P0 are going to have a hissy fit on one of the ribbons on your dress missing, but I needed to tie it off." He gently smacked his thighs as he finished speaking before getting up and Rey looked over his shoulder at him. "...If I run, will they catch me?" She asked softly and Luke paused for a moment with sad eyes before nodding. "Yeah...yeah, they'll catch you...I'm sorry, Rey, but you're here for good." Luke frowned and Rey hung her head in defeat. Goddammit. She wouldn't even try now, there was no point.

"Are you hungry? Maz makes really good food, Poe is always talking about her spaghetti." Spa...what now? Is that a food? "You don't know what spaghetti is?" Luke looked beyond shocked and Rey was staring to think that no one here knew what it was like in the wastelands. "Aw, man, come on. Come on, I'm getting you some spaghetti. You're going to love it, I swear, come on." Luke smiled brightly as he held his hand out and Rey looked at him suspiciously before getting up herself, the blonde looking slightly hurt but instantly shook it off. He seemed trustworthy, but Rey still wasn't taking that chance.

Luke was right, spaghetti was 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 and she 𝘥𝘪𝘥 love it. She had scarfed down five bowls, and on her second bowl, another pale beast who looked only slightly older than her and Luke had come in and started betting on how many bowls she could eat.

"She can eat three more, I swear--"

"Han, she could eat, like, 𝘴𝘪𝘹 more, why are you playing down her appetite?"

"Screw you both, I could at least eight more." Rey snickered in amusement as she started filling her bowl again. Luke was also right about Han, he was a swell guy. He had a fantastic set of humor, and she honestly enjoyed the betting match right now. This was fun. Had she ever had fun? She wasn't quite sure, but this was what fun was she guessed. "Eight?! Aw, geez, how much can your tiny body handle?" Han laughed loudly and Rey shrugged as she stopped filling her bowl. "I dunno, I've never had this much food before. I tore into that whole bag of twinkies--"

"Maz was pretty pissed about that, twinkies aren't easy to get." Han smirked and Rey looked over at him. "I only know them because of advertisements for them in convenient stores. You know, like, on the shelves."

"But you've never had one? How have you also never had spaghetti? Didn't your parents cook for you or something?" Han asked and Rey's hands on the bowl gripped tighter. Well, there goes that fun feeling. Hello, panic. "I...I didn't have--I barely remember my--"

"Ha-ha, okay!" Luke laughed nervously and Rey was seriously beginning to like him. He was great at reading her emotions, and for the past hour and a half, he always cut in or changed the subject when someone asked Rey a question she felt uncomfortable with. He got it. He understood. She was about to open her mouth to speak when suddenly both Luke and Han looked down, the room's atmosphere growing cold.

"Luke, Han, would you leave us be?" That was Vader's voice. Oh, no. No! She was having fun, this was fun, she didn't want to be alone with Vader!

"Father, perhaps later--"

"Was it a question," Vader hummed as he approached the table, and Rey wouldn't allow herself to look at him. "Or an order, Luke?" Vader sighed and Luke bit his lower lip harshly with an aggravated expression on his face. Han gently squeezed Luke's upper arm as Luke growled quiet and Rey just stared down at her spaghetti.

"I don't 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 if it was an order, father, I'm not letting you hurt you like you hurt--"

"Luke, don't," Han whispered and Luke's eyes jerked up to look at Rey, her eyes meeting his almost instantaneously. "Don't, come on. He's not gonna hurt her." Han quietly stood up and walked out of the room with Luke, Luke looking back at her one last time before disappearing.

"I can't smell it on you, why is that?" Vader sat in front of her and Rey still refused to meet his eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking--"

"Yes," He leaned forward, his eyes glittering with danger. "You do, Rey, and I'd like to know why you'd make Benjamin go against me. Are you planning to turn everyone against me? Is that it?" Rey looked up with a shocked expression and instantly regretted it. She hated his eyes.

"N-no, why would I ever--"

"I should just fix you now," He smiled, a calm smile, but yet Rey had never felt so uncalm in her life. "I should fix you now, and make it so you'll never run. I can do it now, I hope you realize that, and you can't stop me. It all depends on how much more time I give you as this filthy animal you are now." He smirked and Rey clenched her jaw.

"If you touch me, and I mean this," She started to rise out of her chair. "I will eat you." Vader looked shocked for a moment, but she guessed she didn't know this threat. It was a very common threat in the wastelands, in fact, she was berated by it on numerous occasions by Plutt, but, in the end...she was the one that had eaten him, not her, and that made her feel confident in some sense. Vader opened his mouth to speak but instantly closed it as he looked towards the entrance way, Kylo leisurely leaning against it as he stared at him. Rey watched them for a good few minutes, and she couldn't help but notice their expressions were changing as if they were having a conversation...but they weren't speaking. At all.

𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳? She asked herself and Kylo's eyes flickered over to her. "Come on, grab your bowl, I'm taking you back up to your room." Kylo finally spoke and Rey quickly glanced over at Vader who looked much too smug to her liking.

"Why did you bring me up here?" Rey asked as he closed her bedroom door behind her, the man putting his hands on the door before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "Ben, answer--"

"Because, Rey, I'm trying to protect you," He inhaled quietly before opening his eyes and turning around to face her. "From him." He finished and Rey huffed as she looked away. "Your family is really weird, you know that? The only decent person is Luke--"

"Luke? You were hanging out with Luke? Of all people?" Kylo sneered and Rey looked back at him. I guess Luke was right about yet another thing, his family really didn't approve of his down to earth ways. "Luke is soft--"

"Yeah, well--well maybe you should learn that from him. The rest of you are super intrusive with all your questions and--and touching me! You know there's such a thing as asking?!" Rey shot back at him and he clenched his jaw.

"Get used to it, Rey--"

"Get used to what?! Being touched when I don't want to?! Having Vader eye me like fresh food?! Having Poe and C3P0 watch me constantly during the day?! No! No, I don't have to get used to this! In fact," She spat angrily as she shoved him towards the door, Kylo simply only raising an eyebrow in response. "You can get out and leave me alone!" She hissed and he clicked his tongue before opening the door without even looking at it.

"If that's what you want." He stated and Rey was suddenly taken aback as he left. He listened to her? He actually listened to her? She didn't dwell on it long as she hurriedly locked the door and ran over to her bed, the brunette curling up and staring at the wall.

He listened to her...

And that carnal voice deep within screeched in joy once again.

[bestnoncannonship]

Alright..I'mma get in on this VC fancasting debate.

As a director, I often have a LOT of opinions on people's casting decisions. A LOT. (Someday, I'll write a novella on Ken Brannaugh's casting.) So as I see a LOT of fancasts casts based on how people look and few based on whether or not the actor can likely handle the role, I'mma throw my hat in the ring. (Warning....the more I write the less technical and more shitposty this is gonna get!) So here you go! The Vampire Chronicles series if I got to cast and direct it!!

The Brat Prince:

Most importantly....we gotta get us a Lestat. And the choice is clear:

Evan Williams: this fabulous shitposting aesthetic trash is as close to the one and only Vampire Lestat as we are gonna get on this plane of existance. He is all charm and quite light in his loafers and a complete mess.......but most importantly, he has proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is able to play a character that does inexplicable and morally reprehensible things while still being read as highly sympathetic, likable, and even a hero. That's what I worry about most with Lestat. He really is a very terrible person who doesn't learn or face too many consequences. And he has to be very very very sympathetic. Not just "Oh I Stan that villain" likeable.....but a true hero. And it takes a very. Special. Actor. To pull that shit off. And this is it. This is the guy. He was hired to play an Iago-esque gay villain type in Versailles, STOLE THE SHOW OUT FROM UNDER GEORGE BLAGDEN (no mean feat as Blaggy was giving a hell of a performance) and made his character a beloved icon. Yeah....I trust him to lead a show. I trust him to be Lestat.

Nicholas L'enfant:

Okay not gonna lie I struggled with this one. There was someone else I wanted to see in this role....but I decided he was better employed elsewhere. And this is who I ended up with:

Yep. George Blagden. See...in the grand scheme of things Nikki is a very low-screentime role that has a LOT of impact on the story. And who better to trust with low screentime that the god of grantaires, who took a few small shots and lines and GAVE US A FULLY CHARACTERIZED GRANTAIRE in the Les Mis film. He is very sweet faced, and easy to like, can make being an on screen depressive fascinating instead of dull and has proven time and time again that he is the master of the complete mental breakdown, complete with horrifying but tragic crazy eyes. Also.....he bears a strong enough physical resembles to.....

Louis!!!!:

Our beautiful depressed dark angel with a vampire eating disorder who has no self esteem and is still in love with his abuser needs nuance. He needs soul. And he needs a sweet and delicate beauty. And so:

Alexaner Vlahos!!! The soulful eyes!! The delicate bone structure!!! The slight tones of simmering resentment!!! The ability to play a character that could have become VERY one note VERY quickly with goregeous amounts of nuance and sympathy!!! Vlavla has quite the varied resume. Mordred. Phillipe. Romeo. Captain Hook. To put it lightly he has a LOT of range and the one through line is he is NEVER boring. He plays a lot of roles that could very quickly become boring and one note (Romeo? Captian snooze right there!). But every second he's on screen or stage he is so completely alive in whatever he is feeling. I TRUST him to keep the entirety of Louis's brooding nuanced and fascinating for an audience and to physically and facially convey Louis's very important internal monologue that we will not be able to hear because this version is going to be from Lestat's point of veiw. I toggled with the idea of making him Nikki for a while....but ended up with Louis for 2 reasons. 1) he doesn't need the scripted plot drama Nikki has written in to make a compelling character and 2) he and Williams share such beautiful chemistry. Whenever they're together, even off screen, their focus shifts so that they orbit each other like bianary stars and any director can see that that's something that should be explored and exploited to add demension to the Louis/Lestat relationship and justify why they keep coming back to each other.

(And so ends the Men of Versailles segment of my fancast. So sue me. There's some incredible actors there.)

Let's return with

Gabrielle De Lioncourt:

The incomparable Alex Kingston, lately of River Song fame, though I met her as Elizabeth Corday, and Doctor Corday is driving this casting choice. I wanted an actor who was an appropriate age to play Williams's mother cause we don't fuck with that women are "old" at 30 shit in this house. And she can carry off the kind of "I will not hesitate to kill a man" BDE that Gabrielle requires without trying, but she's also proven herself comfortable and competent with the level of CAMP that VC requires. I can see her easily showing up on set for a few scattered episodes, slipping easily into the verse, and nailing the kind of woman who can put Lestat in his place then run back off to the jungle. Also....that De Lioncourt hair!!!!!

Marius "Daddy" Romanus:

Yep. This fuck. I can hear it now.... "Why isn't he lessssaaaat??? He's so blonde and prettttyyyyy????" Well....mainly because....I ain't sure this lil fuck can run a show as a very despicable but likeable hero yet. He's admirable. A good actor. A great villain. But not a hero and not heroically likeable. Personally, I'm of the opinion that in 10 or 15 years he will have grown into the ability to play something as complex as Lestat with likability....but for now.....DAMN is he a creepy imperial thing. He's got that "My house, my rules" vibe down. He's preditory. He's distinguished. He is Marius. And he's go the best Roman coin profile I've ever seen.

Armand:

N/A

Ok. Controversial decision....but I want to see a complete unknown as Armand. Send casting out to cast a wide net, scour the world for the Botticelli death machine. But definitely don't pull him from the pool of already famous younguns. Because your Armand needs to be deep. Skilled. And primarily UNSPOILED by the school of child acting that is forced upon child actors. (I was a commercial kid and child stage actor. It was terrible.) Go out and get some twinky fresh faced raw talent so you get depth.

Claudia:

N/A

Big old ditto on what I said above about child actors. A nice doe eyed unknown, preferably without a stage mom.

AKASHA:

Yikes. So many amazing choices!!! How do you follow Aliyah??

With literal human perfection Gina Torres of course!!! Again....I wanted to go with an older woman. Someone who would be seen as an authority to all vampires. Someone god damnned goregeous. And someone who I find intimidating. Also, since I'm skewing a little tall with this cast (at least as TV actors go) I wanted someone who comfortably stands among and above most of them! She's a seasond tested actor, and certified badass. And we know she can steal a scene. Besides if she can look regal as a queen in that weirdass dress they gave her in the serenity movie she can pull off whatever monstrosity costumes comes up with to follow the Aliyah getup.

Khayman:

Don't @ me but....I have a LOT of feelings about Khayman. I love his particularly breed of immortal insanity. I love the way immortality drove him mad into a childlike enjoyment and curiosity. And I knew exactly who has to be casted to play that combination of intimidating ancient and innocent curiosity:

This is Howard Charles. He is capable of playing both an intimidating giant and a sweet soulful cinnamon roll at the same time. I cannot sing this man's praises enough. Am I scared of him? Do I want to hug him? Both? He's also one of the best scene SHARERS I've seen on screen in a long time and that's very important in a supporting role.

Maharet:

Just because Anne Rice doesn't know shit about Mesopotamia doesn't mean we have to follow her in that. I wanted to pull from Middle Eastern or Indian populations for her to best reflect the look of the region in a time that's roughly in line with the pre-dynastic Egyptian mish-mosh associated with Akasha.

So I'm gunning for Indira Varma. When I say this woman has timeless beauty.....I mean timeless. She's as prehistorically hot as she is today. And she's such a strong actress, I want to give her a role that isn't 50% sex scenes. She's got both the warmth and the commanding strength to play Maharet. I would ideally like to get a dancer to play Mekare....someone who can handle the physical interp of the role. Probably an Indian dancer to match Indira Varma.

David Talbot:

In the newly declared tradition of Doctors playing Talbot:

This is the only current Gif I could find of Sylvester McCoy. Known to many as the Seventh Doctor. And to many as Ratagast the Brown. He embodies that sort of huffy aging britishness that David projects, but has the over the top personality that can give us those hints of the vitality of David's youth. Basically I can see this man telling stories about hunting tigers in India. Then when he gets the hot young Raglan James Body:

Luke Pasqualino. Swarthy young troublemaker. But for all the youthful good looks, he proved that he was able to play grace and gravitas as D'artagnion in the final season of the BBC Musketeers. I'd love to give him a chance to explore that deeper part. I also trust his ability to match the energy of a cast, which he did repeatedly on musketeers, and portray both the impulsive self aggrandizing Lestat in the Raglan James body and to play the DarkAU Musketeer type that is Raglan James himself.

That's literally all the Gifs I can put in a post. I know I skipped Daniel......but that's because I have surprisingly few opinions on Daniel.......he's very much a vanilla audience connecting character. I'd almost like to see an unknown in that role....just to see what we a new face could make.

And thus ends my casting of the Vampire Chronicles!!

[087710]

making ocs on picrew is just *chefs kiss*

[lazulisong]

there was all this plot you could see that never happened

Meg: Oh Btw I finally read The Vampires Werewolf Bodyguard

Meg: 1. Needed to be longer 2. Getting awful tired of the thing where the bottom is like, twinky and white and blond and the top is huge and obviously coded nonwhite but still is white like "sunkissed skin" JUST WRITE ABOUT A UNSTEREOTYPED LATINO DUDE INSTEAD PLEASE YOU'RE EMBARRASSING US 3. It was all right but not $3 of all right

Meg: And im pretty sure the vampires sire dude was coded nonwhite (his name was dima so it felt middle eastern?) too which would have been fine but he was the villain

Meg: And the other vampire was like this super sketch Asian dude

Meg: ¬_¬

Meg: White people, can we ... like ... not.....

[relationshipadviser-blog]

Idina Menzel and a Gay Fashion Designers Age-Gap Relationship in Skintight

New Post has been published on https://relationshipqia.com/must-see/idina-menzel-and-a-gay-fashion-designers-age-gap-relationship-in-skintight/

Idina Menzel and a Gay Fashion Designers Age-Gap Relationship in Skintight

At one point in Skintight, Elliot Isaac, praising his much younger lover Treys skin, dreams of making it into thousands of sheets.

Creepy, says Trey.

The wide interpretive space of Joshua Harmons witty play allows both viewpoints to be true.

The front of the program, designed to suggest a planned plastic surgery, with dotted lines over its star Idina Menzels face, reads: Beauty isnt everything. So why is it the only thing? The play attacks this question both comically and seriously, but the cover is also misleading. The play is also about what defines a particular kind of gay relationship. Thats harder to sketch on the front of a Playbill.

Jack Wetheralls Elliot is in love or sexual thrallor an intangible mix of bothwith Trey (Will Brittain), some 50 years his junior, and Trey is both callow and (maybe) deeper than his blond, humpy twinkiness suggests to Elliots furious daughter, Jodi (Menzel), and her lackadaisical son, Benji (Eli Gelb).

Trey says he loves Elliot, but the definition and nature of that love and their closeness is what is in question, as well as a proprietary daughter facing the challenge of sharing her father.

Harmon has investigated gay intimacy before (Significant Other), and most recently cultural hypocrisies and duplicities within family life (Admissions), and Skintight marries elements of both.

Menzels high-energy, bustling ball of discontent and motherly over-attachment is this shows zingiest comic draw. The play opens with her complaining about the breakdown of her marriage. Think of a car engine running, growling, misfiring, not stopping.

Her husband has left her for a much younger woman who, she notes, was a baby when she was at college. She claims not to have a problem with her fathers later-in-life blooming gay life, but her most cherished memories, and memories she uses as weapons against Trey, are from the sepia-frozen past of when her mother was alive and conventional hetero-family intact.

The open field Harmon affords to his characters and their motivations paradoxically becomes one of the plays frustrations. It asks that we hedge our bets on pretty much everything, like whether Elliot and Treys particular older-younger relationship is a healthy thing and whether a transactional relationship involving a rich, older man and a younger, grasping, fairly rude one is such a great idea.

You dont exactly root for Trey and Elliot to be together; Harmon at least partially writing unexpectedly against the central coupleor the hearts, flowers, and longing of what we expect of a central coupleis both perverse and refreshing. Trey seems selfish and pretty unpleasant, Elliot imperious and removed. Theyre a good, narcissistic match for each other. You can imagine meeting them at a party and later being relieved to be out of their self-regarding presence.

We can judge the relationship, of courseJodi sure does, and Elliot insists he knows exactly what he is doing, whatever she thinksbut the play doesnt. Similarly, it leaves open the foggy intentions of a frustrated child watching her father, as she sees it, humiliate himself and be humiliated. Or is Jodi merely pissed off at the hot interloper getting in the way of her access to her fathers millions and millions?

Elliot, who seems an awful lot like Calvin Klein (and Wetherall sure as heck looks like him), has made his money in clothing, and specifically underwear with his name written on the waistband. Klein also has famously had much younger boyfriends, most notably Nick Gruber, and shacked up with him in a swish New York home.

Like Gruber (reportedly), Trey has been a porn star and had sex with women as well as men. Trey, who drawls and revels in being almost belligerently unsophisticated, knows what those drawn to him are attracted to, and so the groin is well-upholstered and shoved front and up at all times.

Just wait for the scene when Trey comes downstairs in the middle of the night in one of his bulgiest jockstraps to sit and eat cereal between mother and son on the couch. (And watch a few minutes later, as Menzel approaches the couch as if it had a lethal strain of botulism streaked on it.)

Then there is Benjia geeky, awkward young man studying Queer Theory abroad, and a very different gay man from Treywho, in one of the best scenes of the play, connects with Trey, and then very nearly really connects with him, leading a warning to back off. From his grandpa.

Cynthia Mace as the maid Orsolya and Stephen Carrasco as Jeff, a manservant who has an intimate past with Elliot, complete the company. Mace comically struggles up and down the stairs of Lauren Helperns plush set with heavy suitcases. Jeff glides in and out, a mostly voiceless handsome Mrs. Danvers, who Trey cant standor feels threatened bybecause of his connection to Elliot.

Suddenly, the sexiness of Trey and his youth become the central concern of this play, which is fine if a little dramatically deflating. Trey has a nice body, but his sexual charisma isnt that magnetic. Despite his hunky body, you dont really covet whatever it is Jodi and Benji start surmising about what he has.

For this part of the play, Jodi and Benji recognize it (reallyafter being so circumspect about everything else?). For them, his supposed beauty is Treys power, and it is the root of many other peoples success and power too. Skintight doesnt ask what price, beauty, but rather what can it buy you. Elliot is in the business of selling sex, and here he is living his own lifestyle.

One of the plays conclusions, and one that it means to sit there and not get beyond, is that if you are beautiful, youll be all right; that beauty is the thing that can guarantee access and riches.

For Elliot, Treys beauty is life-giving, but Elliots key speech to Jodi, praising that beauty and waking up next to it every morning, sounds more vampiric and creepy than perhaps how it is intended. Jodi notes that whatever it is, it doesnt sound like love.

There is amity of a kind in conclusion. But youre left scratching your chin with this inconsistently likable and grating group. Trey is perhaps not as bad as Jodi thinks, but maybe he is (he certainly has a capacity for cruelty and meanness); as for Elliot, Wetherall seems to be playing intense Strindberg while everyone else has beached their characters on an accessible fault line between comedy and drama.

We can understand Jodis frustrations, but Jodi/Menzel is beautiful too, at least equally so to Trey/Brittain, so its hard that she would feel at such an aesthetic disadvantage next to him. Which leaves Benji, also very handsome (especially if you like big, curly hair), who perhaps needs to stop learning Queer Theory and start living a queer life.

Just as the play asks us not to judge its characters, it also asks us to accept how people choose to live with the compromises and shortcomings in their intimate relationships that are not just obvious to others but also to them.

Skintight is at the Laura Pels Theatre, 111 West 46th Street, New York City. Booking through Aug. 26.

Read more: https://www.thedailybeast.com

[mysteriouslyzealouspandalov-blog]

Idina Menzel and a Gay Fashion Designers Age-Gap Relationship in Skintight

New Post has been published on https://relationshipguideto.com/must-see/idina-menzel-and-a-gay-fashion-designers-age-gap-relationship-in-skintight/

Idina Menzel and a Gay Fashion Designers Age-Gap Relationship in Skintight

At one point in Skintight, Elliot Isaac, praising his much younger lover Treys skin, dreams of making it into thousands of sheets.

Creepy, says Trey.

The wide interpretive space of Joshua Harmons witty play allows both viewpoints to be true.

The front of the program, designed to suggest a planned plastic surgery, with dotted lines over its star Idina Menzels face, reads: Beauty isnt everything. So why is it the only thing? The play attacks this question both comically and seriously, but the cover is also misleading. The play is also about what defines a particular kind of gay relationship. Thats harder to sketch on the front of a Playbill.

Jack Wetheralls Elliot is in love or sexual thrallor an intangible mix of bothwith Trey (Will Brittain), some 50 years his junior, and Trey is both callow and (maybe) deeper than his blond, humpy twinkiness suggests to Elliots furious daughter, Jodi (Menzel), and her lackadaisical son, Benji (Eli Gelb).

Trey says he loves Elliot, but the definition and nature of that love and their closeness is what is in question, as well as a proprietary daughter facing the challenge of sharing her father.

Harmon has investigated gay intimacy before (Significant Other), and most recently cultural hypocrisies and duplicities within family life (Admissions), and Skintight marries elements of both.

Menzels high-energy, bustling ball of discontent and motherly over-attachment is this shows zingiest comic draw. The play opens with her complaining about the breakdown of her marriage. Think of a car engine running, growling, misfiring, not stopping.

Her husband has left her for a much younger woman who, she notes, was a baby when she was at college. She claims not to have a problem with her fathers later-in-life blooming gay life, but her most cherished memories, and memories she uses as weapons against Trey, are from the sepia-frozen past of when her mother was alive and conventional hetero-family intact.

The open field Harmon affords to his characters and their motivations paradoxically becomes one of the plays frustrations. It asks that we hedge our bets on pretty much everything, like whether Elliot and Treys particular older-younger relationship is a healthy thing and whether a transactional relationship involving a rich, older man and a younger, grasping, fairly rude one is such a great idea.

You dont exactly root for Trey and Elliot to be together; Harmon at least partially writing unexpectedly against the central coupleor the hearts, flowers, and longing of what we expect of a central coupleis both perverse and refreshing. Trey seems selfish and pretty unpleasant, Elliot imperious and removed. Theyre a good, narcissistic match for each other. You can imagine meeting them at a party and later being relieved to be out of their self-regarding presence.

We can judge the relationship, of courseJodi sure does, and Elliot insists he knows exactly what he is doing, whatever she thinksbut the play doesnt. Similarly, it leaves open the foggy intentions of a frustrated child watching her father, as she sees it, humiliate himself and be humiliated. Or is Jodi merely pissed off at the hot interloper getting in the way of her access to her fathers millions and millions?

Elliot, who seems an awful lot like Calvin Klein (and Wetherall sure as heck looks like him), has made his money in clothing, and specifically underwear with his name written on the waistband. Klein also has famously had much younger boyfriends, most notably Nick Gruber, and shacked up with him in a swish New York home.

Like Gruber (reportedly), Trey has been a porn star and had sex with women as well as men. Trey, who drawls and revels in being almost belligerently unsophisticated, knows what those drawn to him are attracted to, and so the groin is well-upholstered and shoved front and up at all times.

Just wait for the scene when Trey comes downstairs in the middle of the night in one of his bulgiest jockstraps to sit and eat cereal between mother and son on the couch. (And watch a few minutes later, as Menzel approaches the couch as if it had a lethal strain of botulism streaked on it.)

Then there is Benjia geeky, awkward young man studying Queer Theory abroad, and a very different gay man from Treywho, in one of the best scenes of the play, connects with Trey, and then very nearly really connects with him, leading a warning to back off. From his grandpa.

Cynthia Mace as the maid Orsolya and Stephen Carrasco as Jeff, a manservant who has an intimate past with Elliot, complete the company. Mace comically struggles up and down the stairs of Lauren Helperns plush set with heavy suitcases. Jeff glides in and out, a mostly voiceless handsome Mrs. Danvers, who Trey cant standor feels threatened bybecause of his connection to Elliot.

Suddenly, the sexiness of Trey and his youth become the central concern of this play, which is fine if a little dramatically deflating. Trey has a nice body, but his sexual charisma isnt that magnetic. Despite his hunky body, you dont really covet whatever it is Jodi and Benji start surmising about what he has.

For this part of the play, Jodi and Benji recognize it (reallyafter being so circumspect about everything else?). For them, his supposed beauty is Treys power, and it is the root of many other peoples success and power too. Skintight doesnt ask what price, beauty, but rather what can it buy you. Elliot is in the business of selling sex, and here he is living his own lifestyle.

One of the plays conclusions, and one that it means to sit there and not get beyond, is that if you are beautiful, youll be all right; that beauty is the thing that can guarantee access and riches.

For Elliot, Treys beauty is life-giving, but Elliots key speech to Jodi, praising that beauty and waking up next to it every morning, sounds more vampiric and creepy than perhaps how it is intended. Jodi notes that whatever it is, it doesnt sound like love.

There is amity of a kind in conclusion. But youre left scratching your chin with this inconsistently likable and grating group. Trey is perhaps not as bad as Jodi thinks, but maybe he is (he certainly has a capacity for cruelty and meanness); as for Elliot, Wetherall seems to be playing intense Strindberg while everyone else has beached their characters on an accessible fault line between comedy and drama.

We can understand Jodis frustrations, but Jodi/Menzel is beautiful too, at least equally so to Trey/Brittain, so its hard that she would feel at such an aesthetic disadvantage next to him. Which leaves Benji, also very handsome (especially if you like big, curly hair), who perhaps needs to stop learning Queer Theory and start living a queer life.

Just as the play asks us not to judge its characters, it also asks us to accept how people choose to live with the compromises and shortcomings in their intimate relationships that are not just obvious to others but also to them.

Skintight is at the Laura Pels Theatre, 111 West 46th Street, New York City. Booking through Aug. 26.

Read more: https://www.thedailybeast.com

[everbright-mourning]

there was all this plot you could see that never happened

Meg: Oh Btw I finally read The Vampires Werewolf Bodyguard

Meg: 1. Needed to be longer 2. Getting awful tired of the thing where the bottom is like, twinky and white and blond and the top is huge and obviously coded nonwhite but still is white like "sunkissed skin" JUST WRITE ABOUT A UNSTEREOTYPED LATINO DUDE INSTEAD PLEASE YOU'RE EMBARRASSING US 3. It was all right but not $3 of all right

Meg: And im pretty sure the vampires sire dude was coded nonwhite (his name was dima so it felt middle eastern?) too which would have been fine but he was the villain

Meg: And the other vampire was like this super sketch Asian dude

Meg: ¬_¬

Meg: White people, can we ... like ... not.....